


Out of the Blue

by IsabellaJack



Series: Out of the Blue Adventures [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Feels, Complete, Detective James Barnes, Detective Sam Wilson, Fluff and Angst, Meet-Ugly, Mystery, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Feels, Suspense, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, grumpy bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsabellaJack/pseuds/IsabellaJack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Does she have family?” Barnes asks again.</p><p>Steve tries to remember. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“You sing her praises and don’t know a simple info like that?” Barnes huffs, looking irritated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing suspense in my original fics, so I thought I'd try it in the Stucky world lol. I don't know how many chapters this will be but it won't be a long one. Oh and I don't pretend to know all about police work, so forgive me. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Hope you like it :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a photoset that I created for this fic. 
> 
>  

 

 

It’s the middle of the night and Steve's shallow breathing is getting louder inside the building as he ascends the stairs to his small apartment.

"Let me just carry you Rogers," Clint pleads next to him.

Steve almost pushes him down the stairs. But all he does is turn to him and if looks could kill...

"Okay, okay. Sheesh!” Clint puts his hands up in surrender. “I just don't wanna get you back to the ER. We just left them."

"I'll...be...fine...it's just...the elevator...there we are." Steve slumps onto the floor, at the landing, and quickly gets out his inhaler. He really doesn't want to go back to the hospital. He's been there all throughout the past week. He had his pneumonia of the year. He’s lucky this time. However, he’s not lucky now when they’ve found that the elevator is not working today for some odd reason.

He puffs twice and feels much better. Resting his head back, he closes his eyes and regulates his breathing. He distantly hears Clint’s footsteps going away and then coming back toward him. “Uh, Steve?”

Steve opens his eyes, looks up and frowns at the troubled look on Clint’s face. “What’s…wrong?”

“Uh…I don’t know how to say this. I think you should see for yourself.”

Steve takes Clint’s hand and gets up. His friend points at the end of the hall.

“What?”

“Just…walk there, slowly.”

Steve doesn’t understand why he should go to the end of the hall. He is standing right outside his own apartment. But the look on Clint is a first. So he gives in and walks there. Then when he almost reaches the end of the hall, way past his own apartment, his heart stops.

He almost crashes into Clint as he sees the police yellow tape across the door to his nice old neighbor Peggy. “Is she…when…what the hell…”

“I don’t know.” Clint sounds sad. “But it’s…It looks like a murder scene.”

Steve shudders. “I gotta make sure Clint…” He goes to the door and weakly tries to rip the tape away. Clint quickly pulls him back.

“Are you crazy? We can’t. The cops will be on to us. This is a crime scene, Steve!”

“Now is not the time to put your knowledge of procedural shows to use. This is Peggy!” Steve is getting angry, and his lungs aren’t helping. He feels himself hyperventilating.

“I know. Come on.” Clint takes hold of him, putting his arm around Steve’s bony shoulders. “Hey, she might be okay. We don’t know. She might even be away and someone just broke into her place.”

Steve knows that it’s not possible since she’s a very old lady. And she had told Steve several times that she has no intention of moving out of this building, let alone New York. But then again maybe she has relatives somewhere.

Hopefully that’s the case.

“I hope you’re…right.” He feels shaken a bit, and for the first time, he lets Clint hold his elbow and help him out, walking him all the way back to his place.

 

~~~

 

The very next day, Steve groans when he hears a knock on his door. Not just any knock. It’s a very forceful knock. Whoever is behind the door is impatient.

It must be his landlord. He’s always like that. Nice guy but no manners whatsoever.

Steve sits up slowly and almost chokes on his dry mouth. Thankfully, Clint had left a glass of water on his nightstand. He quickly takes huge gulps and feels himself more awake.

The knocking persists.

“Okay, coming,” he says, his voice hoarse.

He takes two-barely-deep breaths and then stands up. He wears his wool socks because Clint would have his head if he gets sick again. The floor is still cold even though the apartment is warm enough. Still, angry Clint is somewhat scary.

“Open up, NYPD!”

Steve halts in his steps to the door. _NYPD? Why?_

He jolts again at the loud knocking. He feels his heart in his throat at the realization that maybe the whole thing with Peggy is actually serious and not like what Clint had said. He prays that it’s not bad. And as always, his coughing has impeccable timing. He coughs as he opens it, bending over with the force of it. When he opens his eyes, grimacing at the feel of his throat, he sees the black shoes of two men.

“Steve Rogers?” Someone asks.

Steve wipes the hair off his face; one of his hands squeezes his knee in support before he looks up. When he does, he finds two very well-built men in suits at his door. One of them looks like a very nice guy with a genuine smile on his face. The other guy looks so mad Steve wonders if he’s offended him already.

The smiley guy asks again, “Are you Steve Rogers?”

“Yes. Sorry, I was asleep. Did I hear you guys right? NYPD?”

“You think we go around annoying people playing pretend?” The mad guy asks, looking utterly annoyed.

Steve opens his mouth, intending to tell him that _that_ was uncalled for, but his partner puts his hand up. “I’m sorry but you heard right. I’m detective Wilson and this is detective Barnes. Can we come in? We’re here in regards to Ms. Carter across the hall-“

“Oh yes, come on in. Just in time.”

He moves aside to let them in, his eyes are tracking the angry one. The two of them couldn’t be more different. Wilson looks put together, suit very clean and sharp. While the other one looks so different from the messy bun on his head to the way he’s carrying himself. He looks a bit haggard even though he’s wearing a suit, but his tie is askew. He seems to be calculating his surroundings.

_Wait, am I a suspect?_

“May I ask what you mean by that?” Detective Wilson asks.

Steve shrugs. “I was gonna go around today and ask. She’s a dear friend.”

The detective called Barnes snickers and Steve gives him a cold look. He notices that he’s walking around while the other sane one is standing in front of Steve.

“Do you mind telling me what happened?” Steve asks, as he motions for detective Wilson to sit on the sofa and Steve occupies the chair. His eyes track Barnes and the guy is still walking around, touching his stuff. Steve wants to object but figures maybe that’s how they do things. He’s never been visited or questioned by cops let alone detectives.

“I think we’re the ones who are gonna ask the questions here. Not the other way around,” Barnes says, his back to them.

Detective Wilson sighs and turns to Steve. “Mr. Rogers-“

“Steve, please.” And he sits back but realizes that his socked feet don’t reach the floor, so he tries not to flush and moves a bit to sit on the edge of the chair. The two men are making him feel self-conscious and it’s bothering him.

“Steve. Where were you two days ago, midnight?”

Steve sighs, hands in his lap. He notices that they’re still pale. So he rubs them together to bring life to them. “I was hospitalized for the past week.”

“Oh.” Wilson gets his notepad out. “What for and when exactly?”

He closes his eyes for seconds then opens up to the two detectives looking his way. “Pneumonia. And it was last Monday, middle of the night.”

Steve gives Wilson the name of the hospital and his doctor, all the while his eyes are tracking detective Barnes. He’s making him nervous. He doesn’t want him to snoop around, especially around his art desk. So he finds himself blurting in annoyance, “Do you mind?”

Wilson looks at Steve who’s looking daggers at Barnes.

“What?” Barnes asks distractedly as he picks up one of Steve’s sketchbooks and starts to open it. It’s the only private one that is not for anyone but Steve’s eyes. It has sketches of his late mother, their old house, and some skyscrapers. Things he sketches whenever he feels lonely.

“No!” And he jumps out of the chair and heads there, almost running, snatching it from the detective’s hands. He hugs it to himself and then realizes that the two detectives are looking at him weird. Maybe suspicious.

_Fuck._

And then he finds himself that he can’t breathe. He has stressed himself. Exhilarated himself. _Damn it._

His chest tightens and Steve starts coughing to alleviate the pain. His body bends and he can hear detective Wilson’s voice. “You okay?”

Steve nods but suddenly the coughing won’t stop. He needs his inhaler. “I just…my inhaler…”

And he heads to his room, throwing the sketchbook on bed and grabbing his inhaler that is on the nightstand. He puffs twice before inhaling deeply. Then he finds himself weakly getting on bed, lying down with his back to the headboard. It's always these moments that he disregards anything. These moments that make his life flash before his eyes and finds that nothing matters. Nothing but his health. So he no longer cares about the two detectives out there in his living room.

His door is still open and he closes his eyes. He cannot afford to go back to the ER. A second admission isn’t on his plans for today. He needs to get better. Get well before he goes to his classes.

“Shit,” he groans.

He tries not to cry and talks himself into inhaling carefully, feeling his lungs expanding. _Good._

Then their voices reach him.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you Barnes?” Wilson hisses. Even though Steve’s chest is wheezing a bit, he can still hear the detective. He sounds upset.

“Wha…I didn’t do anything-he’s the one-“

“I swear to God, Barnes, stop being a dick and get your shit together ‘cause if you don’t, I’m telling Fury about this and how you’re not ready for-”

“Fine! Fine! Jesus!”

Then it’s quiet and Steve feels a bit better. The last thing he needs is detectives fighting in his small apartment.

Barnes voice comes back. “Plus, it’s not my fault that he’s sick…”

“Oh my God.” Wilson sounds frustrated and Steve smiles in spite of himself. In spite of the tight chest slowly opening up. In spite of his resentment toward detective Barnes. What did he ever do to the guy?

At this point Steve doesn’t really give a damn about the two suits in his living room. He really wants to live and take better care of himself. So, he just regulates his breathing, and lays his inhaler on his tummy. He stretches his legs and continues to breathe.

It’s ten minutes before there’s a soft knock on his open door. He opens his eyes and finds detective Wilson. He gives Steve a gentle smile.

“How you feelin’? You doing okay?”

Steve nods. He doesn’t trust his voice. It’ll take energy and breath.

“So no ambulance?”

Steve waves him off and Wilson nods looking relieved. “Well, okay. We’ll stop by tomorrow to continue questioning.”

“No,” he croaks.

“It’s okay-“

“Just ask away. Here. Now.” Steve thinks it’s best to get this over with.

Wilson looks back over his shoulder and then comes inside. Seconds later, Barnes shows up and stands by the door. He leans his shoulder there but his eyes won’t meet Steve. His hands are rummaging through his pockets and get a notepad and a pen.

Steve’s tired eyes go back to Wilson who nods to the bed and Steve allows him to sit on its edge with a wave of his hand. He’s too tired to worry about anything.

“So Steve, do you think there’s a reason why someone would wanna hurt Ms. Carter?”

“You never told me what happened?” Steve asks. When Wilson looks at him, Steve adds, “Please.”

Wilson nods. “It was two days ago. Seems like breaking and entering. She must’ve been awake because she put up a fight.”

Steve smirks. “That’s Peggy.”

“He couldn’t take anything apparently but she took a hit to the head.”

Steve gulps, his heart racing. “She’s not…” He doesn’t want to think the worst.

“She’s alive, but she’s not young, you know.” Wilson sighs. “She’s in a coma.”

Steve’s frail heart aches and in a second, his conversations with her, tea time, and pies she baked for him flash before his eyes. Tears threatened his eyes.

“So, going back to my question, is there any reason for someone to want to hurt her?”

Steve clears his throat, wipes at his eyes and sniffles. Then he looks at Wilson, frowning. “You said it’s a case of breaking and entering? Aren’t those random?”

Wilson shrugs one shoulder. “We just want to eliminate all possibilities.”

“Um.” He shakes his head. It’s mind-boggling to think she’d have enemies. “I don’t think so. Peggy is the sweetest…she’s not like your typical old lady neighbor.”

“Explain,” Barnes blurts.

Both Wilson and Steve look at him. He looks between them then shakes his head and looks back at his notepad. “How so?” This time his voice is a bit softer. A bit.

How could Steve describe her?

He smiles. “She’s sweet and keeps to herself most of the times. She’s highly intelligent. Like you wouldn’t believe she’s eighty, you know.”

“How long have you known her?” Wilson asks, preparing to write down the answer.

“Six months. Ever since I moved in here.”

“Does she have family?” Barnes asks again.

Steve tries to remember. “I don’t know.”

“You sing her praises and don’t know a simple info like that?” Barnes huffs, looking irritated.

Steve glares his way. “Well, if you’d done your job well, you’d know and wouldn’t ask me that. Regardless of her coma state.”

Wilson snickers under his breath and Barnes looks pissed and glares back at Steve. _What’s his deal?_

It seems they’re stuck in a staring contest and Steve is determined to win it.

Detective Wilson clears his voice and pats the spot near Steve’s feet. “How many of your friends have met Ms. Carter? Steve?”

He looks back at detective Wilson and frowns. “You’re gonna question them too?”

“Just chat with them. See what they think of her. Just procedure. No worries.”

“Um…” He tries to remember if Nat has ever met Peggy. Then he shakes his head. “Only one of them. Clint Barton.”

“Okay.” Wilson jots the name down and then looks at Barnes who nods too. Steve doesn’t know what they’re communicating. There seems to be something more than they’re letting on. He doesn’t think they’d share it with him for sure.

He thinks of poor Clint, so he blurts, “Clint has seen her and talked to her twice. I mean…he was with me the whole time I was hospitalized.”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

Detective Wilson gets up and puts his notepad back inside his jacket. Steve watches as he turns, smiles his way and says, “Feel better. Here’s my card.” And he hands him a small white business card. Steve weakly take it.

_Way to go limbs._

“If you think of anything. Anything at all…give me a call.”

When he’s almost out the door, Barnes waiting for him there in the hall looking like he can’t get away fast enough, Steve calls for him.

“Detective Wilson?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you kindly let me know what happens in her case?”

Wilson contemplates, looks back at Barnes and then smiles back at Steve. “Sure, Steve. I’ll let you know.”

As they leave, walking through his living room, Steve can still hear them and wishes he couldn’t. Barnes is hissing, “Is this new? We’re filling people in on our investigations?”

“Man, relax. He cares. Plus, you need to chill the fuck out. What’s happened to you?”

“I can’t believe you Wilson, I swear…”

And then Steve hears the door to his apartment close.

He relaxes. Their presence was so unwelcomed. Plus, he has so many things to do today. He has to call Clint, tell him about all of this. Then go to his classes in the evening. Also, he really needs to go see Peggy.

"Shit! I forgot which hospital she's at," he says to himself.

He needs to do all of that. Not right this moment though. In few minutes. He needs his lungs for all of those plans. He closes his eyes and enjoys the quietness. 

Only his shallow breathing is keeping him company.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

That evening, Steve gets ready to get to his classes and leaves his apartment, making sure his inhaler is with him. A glance to his left puts a frown on his face. Peggy's apartment is still a crime scene with that stark yellow tape.

“So much for my first day back,” he whispers.

He descends the stairs slowly, no need to irritate his lungs, and heads into the busy city going to school. He can’t afford to miss any more classes. Being a grad student is a hassle enough. He takes the subway and hopes for a good day.

 

~~~

 

Steve meets Clint in the coffee shop on campus before starting class. Clint Barton works there full-time. When he sees Steve coming in, he takes his break and leads him to a table. Steve fills him in on the detectives’ visit earlier that day and how they may pay him a visit.

“Oh man, you know how I don’t like cops. They scare me.” Clint groans.

“Wilson is fine. It’s Barnes you need to be careful around,” Steve instructs as he sips his coffee.

“Why?” Clint furrows his brows and somehow he looks like a scared puppy. Steve tries not to ruffle his blond messy hair.

“Because he’s an asshole. It’s as simple as that.”

Clint rolls his eyes. “Okay, here we go.”

Steve sits straight. “He’s a bully and I don’t like bullies.”

“I can’t believe you’re having a beef with a cop…no sorry, let me rephrase. A detective.”

“Whatever.” Steve shrugs. “They’re gonna probably show up here and ask you some questions. I think there is more to that incident than they’re telling us and it bothers me.”

Clint frowns and leans over. “What? Like an attempted murder?”

Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t know…my gut is telling me that there’s something. Anyway, please stick to the truth and appear confident. I know you Clint. You once fainted when a cop pulled you over for a speeding ticket.”

“Shhh.” And he looks around, scared. “I don’t want anyone to hear that and tell Nat.”

Steve tries really hard not to snicker and just smiles. Clint and Nat have been friends long before Steve met the two. He thought at first they were a couple until one night Clint professed his undying love for her after a couple of drinks with Steve. Even though they’ve been friends since childhood, Clint still can’t see he has a chance with her. 

“Imagine if she knew,” Steve starts, giggling.

Clint gasps. Steve wiggles his brows. “You are _for sure_ not gonna have a chance with her.”

“I knooow,” Clint whines and rests his head on the table in despair and frustration.

Steve pats him on the head.

 

~~

 

“Hi Peggy,” Steve says softly.

 

It was a bit late when Steve went straight from school to the hospital. He called detective Wilson before leaving and the guy supplied him with the hospital information and her room. Strangely, he found a security guard outside her room. Thankfully, he was allowed to get in because Wilson had given his name to them.

 

Steve puts the small bouquet of flowers on the foot of the bed and sits on the only chair there, his backpack near his feet. She looks so peaceful but very frail. His heart feels heavy at the absence of family around her. Even the flowers that he brought are the only ones in the room.

He holds her hand a bit. It’s cold and very…old. To think that someone tried to harm her. A lady her age…

Steve’s eyes water and suddenly he’s reminded of his mom. Lying there helpless.

“I’m sorry Peggy. I wish I’d been there.” Then he laughs humorlessly. “I mean, I don’t know if I would've been a big help but at least you wouldn’t have been alone, you know.”

Only the beeping of heart rate monitor is loud in the room and he sighs. “I promise you we’ll get him. But you gotta wake up, okay?”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He gulps and then holds her hand in both of his and squeezes lightly. “I’ll help the cops. With whatever I can. I have faith in the detectives.”

_Well, Wilson anyway._

 

Ten minutes later, Steve pats her hand and leaves after telling her that he’d visit soon.

 

~~~

 

Steve comes back to his building and sighs at the ‘Out-of-Order’ elevator. He rubs his eyes and runs his hands through his hair. He reminds himself to call the landlord tomorrow to ask what the hell is taking so long for the elevators to be fixed.

He shuffles his feet toward the stairs and starts going up. He doesn’t rush and luckily, he doesn’t have an asthma fit by the time he’s outside his place. Yet, he gets his inhaler and puffs twice just in case so he can sleep soundly that night.

The hall on his floor is quiet and the yellow tape is visible to him when he has craned his neck to look. He remembers Peggy's helpless state and then decides to check her place. For anything. He can help in anyway.

Steve walks to her apartment and ducks from under the tape. His shoes make sound when stepping on some splinters of wood. Steve gets goosebumps at the way the door was broken. Whoever broke in was determined to get inside. Determined to get to Peggy. There was no sneaking in.

Or maybe Peggy heard and the intruder decided to just clash with her.

He looks around and the place is a mess. The small dinning table is flipped and broken. Every piece of furniture is ruined. The sofa is cut in the middle. _Weird._ The kitchen is destroyed, one of the upper cabinets no longer has a door.

_What the fuck was he looking for?_

There is a sound of movement and Steve freezes. He holds his breath for seconds before he moves around toward the noise. It’s coming from behind the kitchen island. He takes light steps toward the kitchen and reminds himself it could be a rat or something. But how…

He grabs a broken leg of a chair and proceeds. When he rounds the counter, he’s not prepared for what he’s seeing.

It’s a cat. A small gray Scottish fold kitten. It looks very scared of him and hiding in the open lower cabinet.

“Hey. Hello little one.”

He puts his ‘weapon’ away and crouches. Strangely, the cat doesn’t run away and actually comes out to walk toward him. He holds it in his arms and notices that there’s a collar around it’s neck with a name.

_Howard._

Steve remembers his days with Peggy. She’s never had a cat. Throughout the six months he’s known her, there was never a cat nor she ever mentioned one.

_Did she get it when I was in the hospital?_

And the name 'Howard' doesn’t ring any bell. He's never heard her utter that name.

Steve scratches it’s head. It’s only when he rubs its paws that he freezes at the realization.

He should tell the detectives.

So he leaves the place, ducking under the tape, and goes to his place. He drops his backpack inside and proceeds to feed the kitten. He pours milk in a bowl and it starts drinking from it.

“I’m sorry you had to be there for long.”

How did they miss that cat?

He looks at the clock and it’s late. It’s 11:00. But he doesn’t care. He pulls out Wilson’s card and looks at the precinct address and heads there, the cat in his arms.

 

~~~

 

Steve has never been inside a police precinct so he has no expectations, except that it looks nothing like what's on the TV shows. It’s darker here somehow. The people look exhausted and suspects aren’t funny or give one-liners while waiting around. The officers aren't interacting with each other and cracking jokes.

He inhales deeply and asks the first officer he sees. “Hi. Is detective Wilson around?”

The officer looks up from his newspaper and narrows his eyes at Steve. “What’s it regard?”

Steve doesn't want to narrate the whole story. “It’s regarding a case he’s working on.”

The officer, Carl according to his name tag, pulls off his eyeglasses and sighs. “He’s not here but you can talk to his partner-“

Steve shakes his head immediately. “Oh no, no. That’s okay, maybe some other time.” Steve certainly does _not_ want to talk to his partner.

The officer is very oblivious to his discomfort and yells at the top of his lungs. “Barnes! Hey, Barnes!”

A grumpy loud voice comes out of nowhere, somewhere behind Carl's desk. “YEAH! What do ya want?”

Steve’s heart is beating fast and the kitten moves around and drapes itself on his shoulder.

“Someone here to see you,” Carl yells back and goes back to reading his papers.

“I’m not actually here to see…him," Steve mutters under his breath. He sighs when he sees detective Barnes pops up from somewhere and walks toward Carl's desk. He looks tired, and pissed off. His tie is loose and his sleeves are rolled up. No jacket. 

A scowl on his face. When he sees Steve, he frowns.

“What the hell are ya doing here?” he says, trying really hard not to look surprised. Then the stormy eyes notice the cat. He raises a brow but doesn't say anything.

“I’m here to talk to detective Wilson.”

“Well, he’s not here. What is it?”

Steve figures he's already here so he might as well proceeds. “It’s about the case. Peggy Carter’s case.”

Detective Barnes puts his hands on his hips and lets out a frustrated sigh. Steve glares at him. It’s like he’s burdened with his presence...or the case for that matter. Barnes' eyes wander around before he motions with his hand.

“Follow me.” Then he turns to the other officer. “I’m using Fury’s office.”

Carl huffs a laugh. "It's your funeral."

With Barnes' attitude, Steve thinks that the detective doesn't give a shit about anybody.

Steve walks behind him, the cat quickly slithering back to settle between his arms and mewing until they get into an office with windows all around. Detective Barnes motions lazily with his hand for Steve to sit on the leather black sofa. He sits and the cat stretches on his lap. Barnes keeps standing and leaning back on the huge brown desk, folding his arms over his chest.

Steve doesn’t know where to look, and Barnes is silent. It’s so awkward and stifling the cat even felt it and nuzzled more into Steve's folded arms.

Meow.

“Well?” Barnes starts.

Steve regrets ever coming and agreeing to follow him to this office. He's trying to gather his thoughts and Barnes' attitude is not helping.

“What? You remember something about her or something already? We were just at your place yesterday,” Barnes says in the most bored manner ever.

“Uh…I’d rather speak to detective Wilson,” Steve says in a calm voice and keeps eye-contact with the man.

Barnes huffs and touches the area between his eyes. When he looks up, he says, “He went home. He’s got a family so there’s no point in bothering him when I’m working on the case too. So spill.”

Steve bites his lower lip and looks at the cat. “I...I found something. It may help with the investigation.”

“Found something?”

Steve looks up. “Yeah. I thought I should bring it here.”

Barnes puts one hand up, halting him. “Wait, you said ‘found’ which entails you going to her place.”

Steve doesn’t confirm or deny and Barnes’s eyes widens and he throws his arms in the air in disbelief. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Did you actually go to her apartment?”

“Yes," Steve answers, straightening in his seat. He's not going to back out now.

“You do know how to read, right?”

Steve is taken aback by the question. “Uh, yeah. What’s that got-“

“There’s _literally_ the words ‘Do Not Cross’ on the yellow tape. You basically trespassed a crime scene, not to mention tampered with evidence. There is penalty for that.”

Steve is determined not to look nervous and just calmly looks at him. How can he explain it to this guy?

“I had to do something, okay? Peggy means a lot to me.”

Barnes snickers. “You’ve known her for six months buddy.”

Steve stands up, almost hissing his way. “I don’t expect you to understand that ‘cause clearly you lack empathy and humanity probably all together.”

He says it without thinking first and he doesn't expect the reaction he gets. Detective Barnes is quiet and doesn’t fire back a snarky remark like Steve has predicted. Looking at his calculating look, Steve feels bad at what he said but he can’t take it back now. It escaped his mouth already.

Barnes unfolds his arm and holds on to the desk behind him. “What’s this thing you found then? I doubt it’ll help but I’ll humor you Rogers.”

Steve is impressed that he remembers his name. He holds up the cat and says. “This.”

Barnes tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and then shakes his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“This cat. I found him inside. He was hiding. I mean she never had a cat. Maybe she got him during my hospital stay. There’s a collar and everything with his name on it. Howard…I thought maybe he altercated with the intruder. You could check his paws or maybe…”

And he sees Barnes’s bewildered face and Steve sighs. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

“Of course I’m fucking not! First, you trespass a crime scene and next you bring me a cat…a cat as a witness or evidence-“

“It's not like that." Steve now thinks that he may sound stupid by what he's said. He's honestly an idiot for coming here in the first place. "I'm trying to help!”

Barnes points at him. “You’re wasting my time that’s what you’re doing.”

Steve holds the kitten close to him. He feels he can breathe fire with how angry he is. “I knew I should’ve waited for detective Wilson.”

And he turns to leave. When he touches the door handle, Barnes speaks, “That cat might not be hers.”

Steve turns back to looks his way, cat is still in his arms. He's feared that when he first found it. But he goes to say maybe it belonged to someone who left it with Peggy when Barnes shakes his head, stopping him. “It could’ve wandered in. The door is broken and there is a crack in the window, the far away one in the dinning room. It could’ve easily gotten inside through the fire escape. Then again, do you remember if she ever mentioned the name Howard?"

"I…" Steve doesn't have any answers.

"And how are you sure it’s her handwriting in that name tag over there?”

Steve stands there feeling a bit foolish about everything. He looks down at the cat, frowning. 

“And even if it were her cat, it’s been what-four days, it could’ve went outside, eaten or drank…whatever was on it’s paws, it’s useless now and that is _if_ the cat had actually scratched the intruder. Given the assumption it’s a newly owned cat, and a little one at that, it highly unlikely it’s attacked said person. It might’ve ran away or cowered inside, somewhere.”

Steve feels his head is hurting with all of Barnes' observations. Nonetheless, Barnes continues, "Let's say I humor you and test for some DNA. It could _literally_ be anyone. We can't go around framing people. There's no point really."

For the second time in his life, Steve hopeless and disappointed in himself. The first time was when he couldn't do anything to cure his mom from cancer. Now, it feels like he disappointed Peggy with his stupid assumptions and theories. Maybe he should’ve asked Clint first, given his obsession with cop shows. And what irritates him more is that it’s Barnes now. He must be relishing in this whole thing.

Yet, when Steve looks up, he sees that Barnes looks reserved and not at all condescending.

Steve doesn’t have anything else to say and he feels so small in that huge office. He mutters, “Thank you. Sorry for wasting your time.”

When he opens the door, Barnes says, “Wait."

"What?" Steve turns slightly, irritation filling his tone of voice.

Barnes looks at him longer than necessary and Steve forces himself not to blush at the piercing gaze. "I’ll walk you home.”

Steve didn't see that coming. “Excuse me?”

Barnes doesn’t explain and passes him through the door, heading for what seems to be his desk. A very clattered desk. He snatches his jacket from the chair and puts it on. Steve walks up to him. “Did you just say you’ll walk me home?”

“Yes,” he says coolly as he fixes his lapels.

“No. Absolutely not.” Steve can't believe the guy. 

“Well, you don’t have a say in this. Someone could’ve seen you snooping in the apartment like the little Nancy Drew you are.”

Steve almost, _almost_ stomps his foot. “Do _not_ call me little."

Barnes smirks. "So Nancy Drew is fine?"

He tries not to flush but utterly fails when he feels his face warm. He changes the subject. "What kind of case is this really?"

“Unlike my lovely dear Wilson, I have no intention of sharing any info with you about our investigation.” Barnes locks his drawers and shuffles some folders and Steve is watching him, bewildered.

“Well, I have no intention of walking home with you.” And Steve goes to step from around him but stops when Barnes stretches his arm, blocking his way.

“I could lock you up here tonight for trespassing. And I’ll lock that cat too. In a different cell,” he says in a cold tone, but his eyes are showing mirth.

Steve tries not to snap. His first instinct is to tell Barnes to go ahead and lock him up. But then he remembers his classes and how he's missed some already. He can't afford being held up here. There's no one to bail him out of course. Clint barely makes money and he doesn't know Nat that well. He decides to consent and barely composes himself when he stresses, “You’re the most insufferable person I’ve ever met in my life.”

Barnes, for the first time since Steve met him, smiles. Proudly! _This guy is so weird._

“Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment. Now..." And he moves his arm. "After you.”

Steve purses his lips, inhales deeply and storms out of the place with no intention of walking side by side with the jerk of a detective.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine. Also, there's a violent scene at the end. So tread carefully.

 

 

"You don't have to rush on my account,” Barnes yells from behind.

Steve stops walking and turns around, making Barnes stop abruptly so he doesn't crash into him.

"You wanna decide how I walk now?" Steve says between gritted teeth.

"No,” Barnes says slowly and it irritates Steve. “I just don't wanna call the ambulance for another asthma fit."

Steve walks closer to him and points his finger at him. "You don't know shit about me. So shut it."

Then he turns around and continues walking back to his place in silence and very much aware that Barnes is still few feet behind him. His plan was to take a cab back to his place, but with Barnes tagging along, he decided not to because he can't handle being in close quarters with the guy. So, Steve changed plans and started walking to his place. It's not far anyway; only six blocks.

The kitten, Howard, meows in his arms and Steve’s reminded of the little poor thing. He keeps scratching its head and it soothes him until they reach his building.

Steve doesn't hold the door for the detective. Seconds later Barnes bangs it open after him. _Of course he would._ Steve heads for the stairs and bites his lip when he sees that Barnes is heading toward the elevators.

"It's out of order," he says finally.

Barnes frowns. "Still? It's been a fucking week."

Steve unconsciously rubs his chest and mutters, “A week and two days.” Then shrugs Barnes’ way. He wouldn't put it past Barnes to blame him for that. Yet, the guy doesn't say anything and walks up behind Steve and actually passes him two steps at a time.

_Show off._

When Steve finally gets to his floor, he watches as Barnes comes out of Peggy's place obviously finished checking it.

Steve couldn’t help it and says, "I thought you could read."

"Ha ha, very funny."

Steve unlocks his place and gets inside. He puts Howard on the floor and the little one scurries away to sit on the sofa. When he turns to close the door, Barnes is there.

"What? You want me to thank you? ‘Cause that's not gonna happen."

Barnes puts his hands on the doorframe, stretching his arms. "No, I want you to step aside cause I wanna search your place."

Steve scowls. _Is this guy serious?_

"That's _definitely_ not gonna happen."

Barnes looks up, and lets out a long breath. When he looks back again at Steve, he says, "If you don't move, I'll arrest you. You do remember your trespassing debacle."

Steve folds his arms over his chest. "You're just gonna hold that against me?"

Barnes huffs. "Of course I am. Duh!"

Steve can’t believe that a guy like him, a detective, said ‘duh’ in front of him to explain himself. He doesn't budge though. Barnes leans over, shortening the distance between them. And Steve realizes just then how tall the detective is. And how perfectly well-built. How his jaw is so sharp and mesmerizing. The color of his eyes is surreal and Steve just notices how pretty they are.

He catches his train of thought and lowers his eyes, ashamed. Luckily, he doesn’t show it on his face.

"I gotta make sure your place is secure," Barnes stresses insincerely.

"It's secure, don't worry about me."

Barnes frowns. "I'm not worried about you. I just don't want another case to investigate. My plate is full."

Steve raises his brow in amazement and shakes his head slowly. "How generous of you. Don't hurt yourself."

Barnes looms over him. "Move."

"The building is secure-"

"Oh I wonder how secure it was when Peggy was attacked?"

Steve holds his breath and they're in a staring contest again until Steve relents and moves. It's late and he's tired. He waves his hand, motioning for him to come in. Barnes hurriedly comes in and swiftly checks the place. Steve still waits by the door and thankfully Barnes doesn't touch anything this time. He watches the detective go around and notices how the little kitten is following him everywhere he goes. Steve smiles at the kitten and crouches when it comes his way. He scoops him up and Barnes nods his way.

"All clear."

Steve gasps making Barnes flinch. "You don't say,” he says with a cold look on his face.

Barnes steps out of the apartment but then turns before Steve closes the door. "Wait, you keeping the cat?"

"Of course.” Steve hugs the kitten to his chest. “Until Peggy wakes up."

Barnes purses his lips. Steve frowns. "What? She's an accessory now?"

"No, it's just...aren't you like allergic or something?" Barnes asks, fidgeting.

Steve raises his brows in surprise. "I'm not allergic to them. Don’t tell me you’re a doctor now?"

Barnes looks away, knocking twice on the door frame. "Just thought with you almost dying last time...it'd be sad to burden that little kitten with guilt."

_There he goes…of course._

"Can you just leave now?" Steve asks as he starts closing the door.

"Don't do anything stupid.” He points at Steve before descending the stairs as fast as he can.

Steve wants to have the last word, so he cranes his neck and yells back, "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

All he hears is the door to the building closing.

He closes his door and heads to his bedroom. He’s too tired to change, so he drops his weight on bed and sleeps soundly, Howard sitting on his back.

 

~~~

 

The next day, Steve enters the cafe on campus, Howard hiding in the inside pocket of his black jacket. He looks for Clint and finds him at the register.

"Hey Clint," he greets and smiles.

Clint beams. "What's up Rogers?"

He walks up and whispers, "I need a favor."

Clint wipes the counter, draping the towel on his shoulder. "Shoot."

"Would you look out for him until I finish classes?"

Clint frowns and looks around Steve. "Who?"

Steve smiles tensely. "This little guy." And he pulls out the quiet kitten. He chuckles when he sees Clint’s eyes widen.

"Dude..."

"His name is Howard and he’s a baby. Can’t leave him in my place alone. Not now at least. So please keep an eye on him. Just until I'm done."

"This is a cafe!" He hisses as he takes Howard and hides him in his sleeve. _Meow._

"Ow!"  

Steve takes him and puts him on Clint's shoulder. "Just give him milk."

"When did you decide to buy a cat?" Clint asks bewidlered.

"I didn't. He's Peggy's."

"What?" Clint frowns.

"I'll tell you all about it later."

"Steve! How am I gonna keep him here? There are-"

"Hey! Look at it this way. Have Nat come over and watch over him with you. Perfect excuse to spend time with her, yeah?"

Clint stills as he ponders the idea. Steve waits and Clint’s eyes glimmer with joy and hope. "You're right."

"Great! I'll see ya." And he secures his bag over his shoulder and turns to leave.

Clint shouts behind him. "I'm on to you asshole. You don't really care about my heart."

Steve salutes him and leaves.

 

~~~

 

When he goes home that night, he walks into the lobby of his building and surprisingly finds people coming out of the elevators. He must’ve had a very funny relief expression because one of the people who were inside pointed at the elevators. “I know. Finally, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve sighs and is immensely relieved as he notices the ‘Out of Order’ sign is not there.

_Meow._

He looks down in his arms and Howard tries to climb his chest. Steve gets inside the elevators and pushes the button for his floor. “I know, Howard. Don’t have to use my inhaler tonight.”

He smiles happily as the doors close. His lungs are gonna be okay tonight.

 

~~~

 

A week passes by and Steve spends it between classes, Howard and Peggy. He would leave Howard with Clint, goes to his classes, pays Peggy a visit and then heads to Clint’s place to get Howard. This happened at the beginning of the week. Towards the end, Howard is used to Steve’s place, so he leaves him there, even though his heart is worried about the little guy. By the weekend, Clint is finally free and able to go with Steve to visit Peggy.

She’s still the same. No change in her state. Clint has brought flowers with him and the two of them are so overwhelmed by her state, they don’t talk. Both say 'hello' and sit there for few minutes. Clint holds her hand for a bit before turning around and Steve hears him sniffle. He's always been soft-hearted.

When they leave, Clint asks him, "Any update on her case?"

Steve shakes his head sadly. "No. Detective Wilson said he’d update me but so far no words from him."

“So weird that her place is still the same. Still trashed…” Clint comments as he leaves through the glass doors of the hospital.

He hails a cab and Steve puts his hands in his pockets. “I know. Do you think…”

“What?” he asks as a cab pulls over. He slides into the back, Steve right behind him.

“That it’s a…an organized crime thing?”

“Shhhh!” Clint covers Steve's mouth and freezes.

Steve doesn’t know what’s happening and only his eyes are moving now, looking at Clint who’s craning his neck to check on the cab driver.

He sighs and Steve pushes the hand on his mouth away. “What the hell?”

“I was worried the driver heard but he has a Bluetooth headset in his ear, talking. Whew!”

“Oh my God, Clint. You gotta keep it together man. What? You think they’re gonna jump out of nowhere when we mention them?”

“Who knows? Maybe?” Clint sits back, relaxed at last.

Steve chuckles. “What, like Voldemort?”

“Shhh! It’s He Who Must Not Be Named, Steve!” Clint hisses, his face all serious.

This makes Steve lose it and laughs out loud.

“I swear Steve…why you gotta do this every time?” Clint fidgets as he looks out the window.

“I just love you man…never a dull moment with you.”

“Asshole,” Clint mutters under his breath.

When the cab drops Steve at his building, he gets out and pays his share. He closes the door and asks Clint to open the window motioning that he wants to tell him something.

“What?” Clint shouts from inside.

“Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!” Steve chants.

“Jesus!” Clint yelps and bangs on the glass between him and the driver. “Go! Go! Go!”

Steve doubles over in the street, laughing loudly. He shakes his head as he turns to get inside. Once he’s on his floor, he can’t wait to see the little kitten. But as soon as he opens the door, he hears a sound coming from the end of the hall.

He doesn’t move just to make sure that he had heard right. He leaves his door ajar and secures his eye-glasses on his face and looks toward Peggy’s place.

A loud thud sounds off and someone is hissing.

Steve starts to breathe hard and he gulps before he decides to walks the few steps there. He makes sure his sneakers don’t make sound on the floor. As he nears the place, which still has the yellow tapes, he stops and listens.

Suddenly there is some light coming from inside and Steve realizes that whoever is inside is using a flashlight. He takes two more steps and strains his ears. It could be another burglar who will be disappointed when he finds that there’s nothing worthy there.

Until he hears them speak.

“I can’t fuckin’ find it!”

“You gotta think like an old lady. Where would she put them?”

“Except she’s not like any old lady. She’s Peggy FUCKING Carter!”

Steve is frozen in his place. It must be them. The people who attacked her. And she was their target. Peggy was a _target_.

He gets his cell phone out and silences it, then types a message to Clint.

_Call 911_

But he worries that Clint will think he’s joking ‘cause of what he pulled minutes ago. Steve sends it anyway and scrolls through the contact and forwards the same message to detective Wilson.

He hears more noises and one of them shushes the other. Steve feels anger building up in him. He just left Peggy almost an hour ago and those two, or maybe more, are the people who put her there.

He remembers his promise to her and then takes two deep breaths, pockets his cell phone and steps to his right, ducking under the tape. He’s got to at least stall them until the cops get here.

Even though it’s dark, he can still see from the streetlights casting light on parts of the apartment.

There isn’t anyone.

Then he notices someone, a dark clad figure, sneaking out the window through the fire escape. The one by the dinning room.

“Hey!” Steve shouts.

The guy almost trips his way outside, surprised. Steve runs to him as fast as he could. He’s able to grab onto his sleeve before the guy scrambles his way down the stairs. But the guy is quick to kick Steve in the stomach.

Steve groans but doesn’t let go.

“What the fuck?” the guy says through clinched teeth. And throws himself down the fire escape and Steve lurches himself, holding on to the black sleeve.

The man delivers a blow to Steve’s wrist with his other hand and Steve feels his bone break. The shock of the pain causes him to fall back inside. He pants in pain, refusing to scream. He cradles his hand to himself and then suddenly feels two arms scooping him from behind and turning him around viciously.

Steve grunts at the strong hold and comes face to face with a man with scars all over his face. His eyes though. His eyes are haunting and Steve’s heart breaks when he thinks that maybe these are the same eyes that terrorized Peggy inside her own place.

The man delivers a blow to his stomach, making him double in pain. Then he kicks him in the face. The force of the kick does something scary to his face; he's not sure if his jaw broke or if he lost all his teeth.

Steve spits blood and moans in pain, going down on his knees.

“Rumlow, come on!” the guy on the fire escape shouts their way.

Steve wipes his mouth and looks up, pushing himself up with his good hand. He puts his fist up even though he can’t see clearly with his eyeglasses broken somewhere.

“I’m impressed kid,” the man says in a low voice. “You don’t know when to give up.”

“I could…do this…all day,” Steve says, panting.

“Sounds like it but I don’t have time.” The guy surges, holding Steve by the neck and lifting him up off the floor.

Steve is feeling his breath leaving him and he’s trying. He’s really trying. But he’s only got one hand and his feet are literally off the floor. The hand clenches around his neck like a vise grip and Steve claws at it but to no avail. He sends a prayer to God that the cops are on their way.

“Rumlow! Rumlow! Let ‘em go. Are you fucking insane? We don’t wanna leave more tracks. And put on your fuckin' mask.”

The guy who’s strangling Steve now, Rumlow, sneers at Steve and then drops him down. Steve claws at his throat and chest. He can’t feel air going to his lungs. Tears stream down his face. It hurts and he feels ashamed. His body is failing him and he’s failing Peggy.

He’s failing the world.

He can’t hear them anymore. They must have escaped. He feels for his pockets but his inhaler isn’t there and he lies down, feeling the world starting to go black.

A faint sound reaches him. He’s lying on his right side and watches from afar…

Howard.

The little kitten makes his way toward Steve.

_Meow._

Steve tries to do something but he’s losing consciousness. Maybe he’s dying for real now.

He smiles 'cause the best part about all of this now is that he's finally gonna see his mom.

Howard reaches him and licks his broken wrist.

_Meow._

And the last thing Steve remembers is Howard’s fur by his face.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

Steve comes to consciousness, hearing the beeping of the heart monitor. When did he visit Peggy?

He feels his head is swimming and foggy. Voices come and go. He knows them. He’s trying to open his eyes but they’re so heavy. Someone is angry. No, not angry. Mad is the word.

“I knew this would fuckin’ happen! I knew it.”

“Oh yeah, you a psychic now?”

“Unlike you Wilson, I know how to profile people.”

“What does this have to do with what happened?”

“Can you two stop? Why can’t you do this some other time? He’s not awake yet.”

He knows this last voice. It’s Clint’s. _Why is Clint here?_

“This is ridiculous. I’m calling security.”

Okay, that’s Nat. _Why the hell is Nat here?_ It’s been a while since he’s last seen her.

“We _are_ the security, ma'am!”

"Don't call me ma'am!"

“Relax, Barnes. For God’s sake we’re in a hospital!”

“Which is what’s wrong with this whole picture. We should be out there. I know it’s them. This is their _fuckin’_ work. I can smell them.“

_Smell what?_ And Steve sniffs to see what the fuss is all about and suddenly he feels that he can’t breathe. There’s a hand, a forceful grip around his throat.

He’s out of breath again. There’s something on his nose and mouth which makes the situation worse. He feels like he’s drowning and suddenly he can’t breathe. He tries to fight it.

His eyes finally open and he gasps very loudly, sitting up. He takes off the thing over his face and feels like grasping for anything that’s around him..

He hears a familiar voice coming from his right side. It’s Clint. “Steve! Steve, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

And he turns to him, finding that familiar, friendly face. The fog is clearing up in his mind and he’s seeing clearly now. He’s starting to calm down but the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Where’s mom?”

Silence fills the room and then Clint touches the right side of his face. “Hey, buddy. Your mom passed away seven years ago, remember?”

Steve lets out a long breath and is prepared for an asthma fit but it doesn’t come. He does remember for sure. He remembers how she passed away in his arms. His question came out probably because he was sure he was going to die and that he thought he'd meet his mom. To finally be with her.

“I’m calling the doctor," Nat says and goes to leave before Steve stops her with a wave of his hand.

“No. It’s okay.”

“Then do you remember who I am?” she asks, fear all over her face.

He smiles tiredly. “Yeah. You’re Natasha Romanoff. Clint’s best friend who puts up with a lot of his shit.”

She smirks and sighs in relief. Steve looks at Clint. “And you’re Clint.”

Clint huffs and wipes his nose. He’s been crying. “Yeah, who puts up with a lot of _your_ shit.”

Then he reaches for something that’s apparently around Steve’s neck. “Here. Put this back on, Steve. It’s oxygen.”

Steve realizes that he’s shaking as he tries to put it on with his good hand. His right broken wrist is already heavy, in a cast. Clint frames his face in his warm hands. “You’re safe and you’re here. Look. Even the cops are here. Remember the detectives?”

Steve lets Clint put the mask back on and turns, still shaking, to see the other side of his bed. He sees detective Wilson and detective Barnes.

“Hey Steve,” Wilson says in a calming tone. There’s a gentle expression on his face. “It’s detective Wilson. You’re safe here.”

Steve pulls the mask off. “I tried to stop them detective… but they escaped. I’m…sorry…I should’ve…tried harder…” His breathing starts shortening all of a sudden and he puts his mask back on, relishing in the oxygen that expands his lungs.

His red-rimmed eyes catch Barnes’s and he can only hold them for seconds for the detective looks down. He looks angry, troubled. _Of course he does._

Steve doesn’t realize that he’s staring at him until the detective raises his head. He purses his lips, then backs away from them all and runs out of the room almost knocking into the doctor.

They all watch him run out and Steve feels something tugging at his heart. He probably ruined the investigation but he had to do it. He couldn't hide and do nothing.

The doctor comes in and assesses him. His breathing is shallow and he tells the doctor that.

“Relax. And I suggest you guys leave except for his closest ones.”

“I’ll stay.” Clint raises his hand.

“We’ll talk later Steve," Wilson says. "Rest now. But before I go, I wanna say I’m sorry we were late. I got back up as soon as I got your message. But I guess…”

“It’s okay,” Steve says hoarsely.

“Glad you’re okay. I’ll let you rest. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

When the doctor and Wilson leave, Steve lies back to rest. Clint hiccups. Steve looks his way and finds that he’s crying.

“I feared you were playing me when I got your message. But when I called you back and you didn’t answer, I knew it wasn’t a joke. I quickly hung up and called the cops.”

Steve smiles tiredly. “I know. Thank you.”

“Glad you’re all right Steve,” Nat says as she pats Clint’s shoulder. “Clint almost wailed like a baby.”

“Shut up Nat.” Then he wipes his eyes and sniffles again. “He’s my best friend.”

“Really Barton? I thought we knew each other longer.” She winks at Steve.

“Yeah, well, he’s my _guy_ friend.”

Steve chuckles. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

Then he remembers and turns to his friends. “Howard...where is-”

“Don’t worry,” Nat says. She turns around and gets her giant handbag. Clint goes and closes the door. Steve frowns as he turns his heavy head toward them.

Nat pulls out Howard from her handbag and Steve’s heart warms at the sight of the small kitten. He doesn’t know why his eyes are tearing up as he reaches with his good hand and Howard just climbs onto it.

_Meow._

“Hey buddy,” he says through the mask.

Howard just moves around and then settles next to Steve's hip.

“I found him lying next to your injured hand when I first got there,” Clint admits, hands on his hips.

It’s not until that moment that Steve is reminded that his wrist is broken. Actually broken. The cast is really heavy. “Oh.”

“Seeing you there, just…I couldn’t even…” and Clint tries really hard to compose himself. Nat comes and hugs him tight.

"I know Clint." Steve looks away, tears in his eyes and hugs Howard to himself.

_Meow._

 

~~~

  

Later that night, Steve is asleep when he hears a sound. He doesn’t open up his eyes. A hospital is always going to be noisy. Even though he couldn’t go back to sleep, he doesn’t open up his eyes. Few minutes later, he feels there's someone in the room.

Someone is _definitely_ in the room.

He tries not to panic, reminding himself that there is a security guard outside. Clint told him before he, Nat and Howard had left that detective Wilson assigned a guard outside his room just as precaution.

Opening his eyes, he sees that the room is semi-dark. The only light is coming from the glass door where he can see the guard standing there outside in the hall. Then he looks to the far left corner and sees a silhouette. Someone is sitting on that chair. The first few seconds his heart is beating fast, thinking that they're back. _But the security guy is there_. Then the person moves and comes into light and he's met with none other than Barnes.

Steve sighs a breath of relief at the sight of him and he never thought he’d ever feel that toward the detective.

"You had to go and do something stupid," Barnes says shaking his head. "I thought I told you not to."

Steve clears his throat and sits up. Barnes walks toward the foot of the bed. He looks disheveled, and worn out. Steve pulls away his mask. He can breathe just fine now. "I did what I had to do."

"See, that's where you and I disagree. Correction, that’s where you and the rest of normal sane people disagree.”

Steve is tired and can’t handle this guy’s sass. “What do you want from me? I thought you and Wilson were gonna question me tomorrow.”

He coughs a bit and Barnes steps a bit closer. “Well, I’m not like Wilson.”

“That…I can agree on,” Steve says and can’t help the small smile creeping up on his face. Strangely, Barnes looks like he’s fighting not to smile.

He rubs his forehead and sighs as he pulls the chair next to Steve’s foot of the bed. “Wilson is lazy, okay? I like getting things done. And fast. So let’s just settle some things.” Then he points at the guard outside. Steve narrows his eyes. He looks different or maybe ‘cause it’s a bit dark in his room.

Steve clears his throat and says, “Against my better judgment, yes, I know you guys assigned a guard for me.”

“Listen to you,” Barnes says then shakes his head. “They assigned someone who I let go earlier. I brought my own. I _chose_ this guy outside.”

Steve pushes himself up a bit. “You…you fired the other guy?”

Barnes gets up and opens the door, pulling the guy inside. He’s huge with a big mustache and Steve feels like he fills out the room.

Detective Barnes, for the first time ever, smiles genuinely at the guy as he pats his shoulder. “This is Timothy Dugan. Or as I’d like to call him, Dum Dum." Then he turns to the big guy, smiling widely. "Friend, meet the annoying Steve Rogers.”

Steve notices how the big guy turns toward him, nodding. “Hey Steve Rogers.”

“This is one of the best guys I know. And he’s sure to keep your stubborn ass safe, as long as you’re at the hospital.”

Then Barnes opens the door again, motioning for Tim to leave. The big guy shakes his head and mutters to Barnes, “You’re such an asshole.”

Barnes chuckles. Actually chuckles as he pats him on the back and closes the door. Upon laying his eyes on Steve again, he literally transforms into the cold, disappointed, grumpy self as he sits on the chair.

“Now, I need you to tell me everything that had happened.” He gets out his notepad, ready to write.

Steve is still trying to get over the image of Barnes smiling and chuckling. He can’t get his heart to calm down. Then he touches his chest and hears the heart monitor beeping fast. Barnes notices and that makes Steve blush even more.

Steve wishes he could break the heart monitor. _Shut up!_

Barnes frowns. “Do I need to call the doctor?” 

“No, no." Steve rubs his face. "I’m fine.”

“Okay. Start.”

“There were two men. Both were wearing black. One was masked, the other wasn’t. I think he was probably looking for something and forgot to put it back on. Um...one broke my hand,” and he raises it to show Barnes. “The other tried to strangle me to death.” And he shrugs.

Barnes raises his head, his eyes looking at Steve’s neck. Steve doesn’t know why but he makes a mental note to look in the mirror later.

“That’s obvious," Barnes states before he clears his throat and looks at his notepad. "I need to know important stuff. Did they say anything?”

“Um…I think Peggy was a target. It wasn’t a burglary.”

Barnes doesn’t look up, but doesn’t write either. “Why do you say that?”

“One of them said, 'That’s not an old lady. That’s Peggy fucking Carter.' I mean...don't you think it’s obvious?”

Barnes looks up, calculating. He doesn't answer and instead asks, “What else?”

Steve runs his hand through his hair. “One of the guys kept yelling at the other one. His name…”

“Yeah?”

Steve frowns, looking at his lap, trying to remember. “Um…Rumi or Rumlow. Yeah, Rumlow. He’s the one who strangled me.”

When he looks up, Barnes’s face is pale. Then the look in his eyes changes into a cold-blooded stare. “What did you say his name was?”

“Rumlow.”

“Are you sure?” And he gets up, grips Steve’s shoulder. “Are you positive, Steve? I need you to be sure?”

“Um…yeah. His friend called him that and told him to put his mask back on. I guess he didn’t want me to identify him. Come to think of it, I feel they were both stupid the way-”

“What did Rumlow look like?” Barnes asks through gritted teeth.

Steve closes his eyes to remember better. And he sees them. Those haunting, hateful almost white eyes. That scarred face.

He doesn’t open his eyes when he starts describing him. “His face is…scarred. Like he was burned or something. The side of his face. His eyes. They’re almost…they’re gray and haunting. They’re the eyes of …”

“Of what?” Barnes asks gently.

Steve feels Barnes’s hand pressing his shoulder. “Eyes of a killer.”

He opens his eyes and sees the opposite. The blue, grayish eyes of the detective The lively, fierce ones. Steve is entranced and gets lost in them that he flinches when Barnes hisses angrily, “I fuckin’ knew it. I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Steve asks, apprehensive a bit because Barnes looks...scary.

“No one believed me,” Barnes says. He’s not even looking Steve’s way anymore. “They thought I was jumping into conclusions.”

Steve stretches his arm to touch his shoulder because Barnes looks like he's talking to himself. And it hit him right then that he doesn’t know the detective's first name.

“Hey, Barnes. Barnes!”

And the glassy-eyed detective looks his way like Steve’s presence is a surprise. So Steve asks him softly, “Knew what?”

Barnes looks at him for few seconds and then he moves the chair back in its place and runs his hand through his hair, forgetting that it was in a bun. He stops and then puts his notepad back inside the pocket.

“Don’t do anything stupid. I mean it this time Steve!”

Then he dashes out, making Steve stumped for the first time.

“Where else am I gonna go.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually on a break from fandom as a whole and writing fic too due to real life. I realized I've been distant lately from everything related to my personal life. I decided to take a break to re-evaluate/re-charge my life. But I have this chapter already written, so I thought I'd post it. Thanks for understanding <3
> 
> I promise I'll finish all my wip's. Until then...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters for this fic are going to be short and not the usual long ones I write. It's how I feel how this story should unfold. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Steve is sitting up the next morning, running his left hand on the soft gray fur of Howard the kitten. He’s smiling at the little one as Clint lounges around.

“You don’t think it’s too much, right?” Clint says hesitantly.

“What?” Steve asks, still mesmerized by the kitten’s eyes.

“Leaving Nat to handle the café.”

Steve looks up. “I don’t think so. Just pray that your manager doesn’t fire you and hire her instead.”

Clint pauses and has this weird thinking face. “You think?”

Steve can't help but chuckle at the expression. “You do know that you’re clumsy, right? I mean...you gotta know Clint.”

“Yeah but…” he trails off as the door opens.

Steve swiftly covers Howard with the edge of the white bed sheet in case it’s the nurse or the doctor. Instead, a man in black comes in who also happens to wear an eye-patch. The aura around him screams authority.

Clint whimpers and Steve tenses.

"Good morning, Steve Rogers," The man greets cordially.

Steve sits up straight, letting Howard crawl into his lap. "Um...good morning."

"You're not a doctor," Clint whispers.

Then when the man walks to the middle of the room, Wilson comes in next and stands behind him. Both Clint and Steve breathe in relief. It means that the man in black is one of the good guys.

Barnes comes in seconds later looking the same as last night. Same clothes even. Steve wonders what's up with the guy. Certainly his line of work doesn't justify his constant haggard state. Wilson works with him and he totally looks the opposite.

Steve looks at Barnes who in return just stares at the back of the guy with the eye-patch.

"I'm Captain Nick Fury," The man in black says, and he motions to the others with a slight wave of his hand. "No need to introduce them I believe."

Steve shakes his head and then the guy looks at Clint who whimpers again.

"You mind leaving us alone Mr. Barton?"

Clint leans Steve's way and whispers, voice shaking, "He knows my name. _He knows my name_."

"It's okay, Clint. Just take Howard. I'll be fine."

Steve hands over the kitten and Clint takes him, securing him in his arms. Luckily, the men don't say anything regarding the kitten. As soon as Clint is out the door, Captain Fury walks from around the bed and sits on the chair by the window. Steve looks around and notices that the other two detectives are standing rigid, looking very serious.

Like they're soldiers ready to report. Except they're wearing suits instead.

_What the hell? This Fury guy must be scary._

"Mr. Rogers-"

"Steve."

He smiles lightly and Steve never thought he was capable of that given his authoritative presence. "Steve. I've been informed of what happened to you by our impatient detective here. Or should I say rash?" And Fury's good eye glances Barnes's way. The said detective doesn't flinch or look back.

Fury continues, "Yet, I'm sorry to say that he's been right all this time."

Steve frowns. His conversation with Barnes last night comes to his mind. How the detective looked shaken, enraged and determined at the same time. He remembers Barnes's words... _'I knew it.', 'no one believed me.'_

"Right about what?"

"Hydra."

Steve frowns. "I'm sorry?"

"Hydra is an organized crime group," Wilson supplies.

Fury nods and leans a bit, elbows on his knees. "One of the most dangerous underground organizations who work stealthily but obviously messed up when they decided to mess with former MI6 agent Peggy Carter...and apparently you."

Steve stills and tries to wrap his head around what the captain just said. "Wha-wait. What? MI6?"

_Peggy?_

"Captain," Barnes starts. "He doesn't need to know-"

"You're the last person to talk about filling people in or not, Barnes."

The detective falls silent at that and Steve is shocked at the reaction. So there's finally a person who Barnes listens to. _Or maybe fear?_

Steve shakes his head and turns to Fury. "I'm sorry Sir but I think you've got it all wrong. Peggy wasn't...she couldn't be."

"I'm afraid it's true Steve," Wilson says gently. "We've known all along but we wanted to spare you. Plus, there's a lot you don't know. Best to keep it that way."

Steve runs his hand through his hair in total bewilderment. His mind is playing all the times he'd had spent with Peggy. Sweet old Peggy.

_No Way!_

"Now Steve," Captain Fury starts as he turns to him. "Since you've already been questioned and I apologize for the _impeccable_ timing of that..." His eye glares at Barnes.

Steve looks at the both of them and decides to spare Barnes. He gives a weak wave of his hand. "Nah, it's okay. He was doing his job."

He feels Barnes's eyes on him but doesn't look his way. Steve just hopes his face isn't flushed.

Fury nods. "In light of the situation and what we've come to, we need to put you under Witness Protection Program. And then-"

"No," Steve says without hesitance.

He won't. There's no question about it. He'll die if he has to. There's no way in hell he's going to abandon his life, his identity, his art classes, his friends...

"Excuse me. What the hell does that mean?" Barnes asks through gritted teeth, eyes glaring at Steve.

Steve schools his face and tries to be as respectful as possible in front of the captain. "I said... I won't. I have a life and I'd very much like to live it."

"Well, you clearly won't 'cause they're gonna come for you," Barnes shoots back hotly. "And if not, I have a pretty good feeling you'll snoop around again-"

"You don't know me!" Steve grips the bed sheet with his good hand in anger. "You have no right to-"

"Oh, I have every damn right-"

"How in the world do you think-"

"Enough!" Fury's commanding voice rings in the room.

Both Steve and Barnes shut up. Wilson pulls Barnes away a bit from the foot of the bed. 

Fury gets up. "That's commendable, Steve. Fine. If you don't want, then I won't force you."

"Sir..." Barnes pleads. "I know them. They won't fuckin' stop." Then he comes to stand closer to Fury and says under his breath, "I was with them for years..."

"And I know that, Barnes. I put you there myself. And you certainly don't have to remind me." His voice turns soft at that last statement.

"But Fury..."

The captain raises his hand Barnes's way signaling for him to stop trying. He takes a deep breath and turns toward Steve. 

"Since I gave in to your wishes, Steve, you gotta meet me half way here."

"I don't know what you mean." Steve doesn’t know where this is going but he feels he's not going to like it.

Fury folds his arms over his chest and looks straight at Barnes. “I’m assigning detective Barnes here to be your personal bodyguard.”

“What?”

“The fuck!” Barnes exclaims loudly, eyes widened in shock.

Steve cringes at his loud voice.

Wilson finally interrupts. “I think that’s a really brilliant idea.”

“Thanks Wilson.” Fury nods his way and half smiles.

“You’ve got to be kidding me here. I’m a _fuckin’_ detective, not a babysitter. I’ve been undercover many times. I’ve been a great asset to the precinct-“

“You claim Mr. Rogers won’t back down, so this is your chance to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” Fury speaks right in Barnes's face.

“I’m right here, you know," Steve says, scowling. He doesn't blame Barnes for he certainly doesn't want-refuses!-to be babied. "And I share Barnes’s sentiment.”

“Well, with all due respect Mr. Rogers, I’m gonna have to choose to ignore your sentiment.” Then Fury turns to a fuming Barnes. “Yours too detective.”

With that he leaves the room without another glance their way. Barnes runs after him, yelling at the top of his lungs about how he won’t ever consent to the arrangement.

Steve sits there baffled at the turn of events.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” Wilson comments calmly.

Steve turns to him, remembering that he’s there. “I’m not gonna agree to this. You guys can’t make me.”

Wilson walks toward the foot of the bed, pats Steve’s foot and says with a smirk, “Sorry Steve, but I’m afraid you’re gonna have a new roommate.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

"Just so you know I don't like this. I don't like it at all!” Steve announces loudly as he enters his apartment and puts the small bag of medication given to him by the doctor for his wrist on the small table by the door.

Barnes kicks the door closed behind him and snickers. "Well, I abhor it if that makes you feel better."

Steve whips around to face him. "It does actually!"

Then he frowns and notices that Barnes is frowning too.

It's getting ridiculous the way they’ve been fighting all the way over. So he sighs loudly and leaves for his room. His clothes reek and his body too. A shower is needed and he’s glad the bathroom is inside his room. He goes to change then remembers that there's someone else around. Someone else is in his living room. Sighing again, he turns around and closes his door then walks back to sit on his bed.

He grabs his cell phone from his pocket and calls Clint.

Without a ‘Hello’ or any sort of pleasantries, he hisses, "Clint, when do you finish your shift?"

"Oh hey Steve—Oh, here you go, ma'am. Have a good one--Okay Steve, what is it? Is something wrong? I thought the detective was gonna pick you up."

Steve rubs his face and grunts, lying on his back. "No, it's not that. I'm already at home...I really need to shower and I want you to wrap my cast with the cover they gave me."

He pulls the cell away from his ear at the loud noises at the other end. He’s getting irritated by the second and he blames the guy wandering behind his door.

“Clint?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, but I finish in two hours. That okay?"

Steve huffs as he calculates. It's gonna be three hours for him to get here. “Nah, forget it. But come by anyway. All right?”

“Will be there.”

They both hang up and Steve sits back up, deciding to just go ahead and shower. He can’t stand another minute.

 

~~~

 

After almost slipping and cracking his head on the edge of the bathtub, he finally gets out and wears fresh new clothes. He checks on his cast and breathes a sigh of relief.

It's dry.

He pulls out clean sweatpants and an oversized white t-shirt. There are holes in it and he flushes. When was the last time he went shopping? _Oh, yeah._ When he had enough money.

Seating himself on the edge of the bed, he pulls on his socks to warm his feet. In a split moment, he forgets about his injured hand and fails to use it to pull his sock up.

“Oh right,” he mutters softly to himself.

He raises his hand to inspect the cast again and it’s in that moment that he realizes what he's temporarily lost. How's he going to paint now? Or sketch? What of his classes? What are his teachers going to say? He had already missed a week when he had the pneumonia, and now… The doctor said that his wrist needs at least six weeks to heal. 

A heavy weight crushes his spirits and he suddenly wants to lie down and under the covers. He crawls into bed and lies in a fetal position, hugging the covers.

There’s no one who can understand what he’s going through.

No one.

Except his mother.

He couldn't help the tears that started falling down his face. 

 

~~~

 

Steve stays like that, crying and staring at the wall, for a long time until he hears a knock on his apartment’s door. He remembers Clint and quickly springs up, wipes his eyes and nose and smoothes back his hair. He leaves his room and heads straight to open the door.

"Whoa, whoa. Where do you think you're going?"

All of a sudden, Steve remembers that he isn't alone. He looks up at Barnes who’s blocking his way. He notices that he had discarded his jacket and tie. His sleeves are rolled up showing up tanned, strong-looking arms. His treacherous heart skips a bit at the sight of the detective in his living room looking like that. He gulps and reminds himself of who Barnes really is.

_An insufferable jerk!_

Taking a deep breath, Steve says calmly, "I'm opening the door. It's Clint."

Barnes puts his hand on the door and blocks Steve even more. "How do you know it's him?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve snaps. When he is met with a raised brow, he elaborates, “I called him."

"Well, I gotta check. And why on earth don't you have a peephole?" Barnes leans over a bit.

"Get outta my way," Steve says, gritting his teeth.

Barnes looks at him weirdly, kind of like inspecting him. His blue-grayish eyes pierce him with a strange look and Steve blushes.

"Your eyes are red," Barnes declares.

_Oh._

Steve runs his hand through his hair. Barnes can never know he's been crying. "It's nothing. Outta my way."

"What is it?” Barnes steps closer to him, invading his space. “Are you allergic? Is it your room? Fuck! I should've checked. The ventilation-"

"Do you hear yourself sometimes detective?" Steve steps closer, challenging him.

Barnes purses his lips. "Yes. I'm always the voice of reason. Even to myself."

"Uh, guys,” Clint’s voice comes from behind the door. “I swear it's me, Clint Barton, and you guys are scaring Howard."

Steve huffs and pushes Barnes aside, trying not to think of how the detective's body is lean and muscular when his hand made contact with his chest. 

As soon as he opens the door, Clint hugs him, Howard mewing between them.

"Hey, sorry again that I wasn't able to pick you up. Nat couldn't cover my shift. Here's Howard. He misses you, I think."

"Hey buddy," Steve greets the gray kitten softly as he cradles him to his chest.

Clint huffs. "He never liked me and I'm very offended that he took to Nat very fast." Then he lowers his face to the kitten. "I fed you and gave you a home, pal.”

Steve chuckles and Howard crawls up and rests on his shoulder. He’s _that_ small.

“As lovely as this reunion is, I’m afraid we gotta leave,” Barnes announces, hands clapping once.

“We?” Clint asks, afraid all of a sudden.

“Leave?” Steve is confused.

“Well, I made some phone calls and found a really good place-a safehouse- one where you can stay at-“

“No! I thought I was clear.”

Barnes steps between the two friends, Howard jumps from Steve’s shoulder to Clint’s.

Even the kitten doesn’t like the detective.

“I’m not fuckin’ staying here and neither are you. So, go get whatever stuff you need, Tim is on his-“

“Why can’t you understand what I’m saying here?” Steve raises his voice at him. “I’m _not_ going anywhere. This is where I live.”

“And this is where you’ll die when they come for you!” Barnes yells back.

Steve flinches back and Clint whimpers and Howard mews.

Barnes runs his hand through his hair, tugging back at the bun, releasing his hair in frustration.

Steve decides to remind him. “Captain Fury was okay with it, why can’t you? Plus, it was his orders.”

Barnes’s eyes widen and then does something he’s never seen him do which ends up scaring both Steve and Clint.

He laughs.

“Oh God, he cracked,” Clint whispers.

Even though he’s thrown off by Barnes’s weird laugh, Steve is standing his ground. He’s not going to back down.

“You’re so naïve I don’t know what to do with myself, Rogers,” Barnes says, wiping his face.

“As much as you scare me,” Clint starts. “I don’t like it when you talk to my friend like that. Steve is—“

Barnes doesn’t even regard Clint with a look, his eyes are directed at Steve. “Fury doesn’t care about your wishes or my comfort. He’s using you as _fuckin’_ bait, Rogers.”

And it’s like the doors opened up for Steve. Why didn't he think of this before?

He smiles and holds Clint’s shoulder. “Oh my God. That’s great! That’s the best idea there is to catch them. I’m in.”

The atmosphere changes. Intense silence fills the room, even Howard freezes over Clint’s shoulder.

“Jesus Christ!” Barnes breathes, putting his hands on his hips and lowering his head in frustration.

“Steve,” Clint whispers, turning toward his friend and holding the hand on his shoulder. “I love you but are you crazy?”

“I’ve never been more sane.” And then Steve turns to Barnes. “I think Captain Fury is on point. This way, it’s so easy to lure them in-“

“No,” Barnes shoots back, still looking down.

“I’m gonna go ahead with this, it’s my duty to-“

“Listen to yourself! It’s not your fuckin’ job. It’s our job to bring them to justice, certainly not the job of an art student trying to be a martyr-“

“Steve, it’s dangerous…” Clint interjects.

“Listen to your sane friend here,” Barnes points at him, still not looking Steve’s way.

“Why does it have to be only you detective? Peggy is my friend! Those people broke my wrist-“

“Only ‘cause you allowed them to-“

“And I can work with you all,” Steve takes a step as he argues fervently for his own point of view. “Why is it okay for you and not for me, huh? I swear I can help-“

“It’s not the same,” Barnes mutters as he shakes his head.

“How is it not the same? Enlighten me here. Like it or not, I’m involved now. Why is it okay for you and not for me? Why?”

“Because I’ve got nothing to lose damn it!” Barnes screams back at him, eyes finally directed Steve’s way.

Steve's breath catches in his throat at the emotion the detective is showing in his eyes. It's the first time that Barnes is laying it all out for Steve. He finds pain, and desperation and loneliness in that expression. He didn't know that his searching eyes made Barnes aware of his revealing outburst that he quickly reverted to his old self.

He mutters under his breath, "I'm gonna kill Fury."

With that, he heads to Steve's window and climbs outside to sit on the fire escape.

Steve releases the breath he was holding but still feels his chest tight. It has nothing to do with his tired lungs. He shivers as he realizes it has to do with everything that surrounds the man out there.

"This one is on you Steve," Clint says beside him.

Steve tries to say something but fails when his mouth closes again in utter failure.

_Damn it._

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

Steve leaves the detective to calm down out on the fire escape. He feels awful about what he might've caused. Barnes’s words implied that there is a story behind the man. Probably behind his constant grumpy demeanor.

He sighs.

He didn’t want to be reminder of whatever happened to Barnes. For the life of him he doesn't know what he did wrong. He wants to help, damn it!

He hugs Howard as he pours milk for the little guy. Steve smiles when the kitten paws at his cast several times and then looks up. 

"Yeah, Howard. I'm afraid I'll be wearing it for a while."

He puts him down, sits Indian style and rubs the back of the kitten as the little guy drinks up from the bowl. 

It isn’t until twenty minutes later that the sound of the window opening and closing again makes him look up. He braces himself but doesn’t get up and continues scratching between the kitten’s ears.

Barnes stands before him, hands in pockets. His hair is wild and some strands are hovering across his face. He takes a deep breath, tucks those wild strands behind his ears and then looks Steve in the eye.

“I’ve been undercover. I’ve infiltrated criminal organizations. I’ve been stabbed and shot and I’ve interrogated people and criminals of all sorts…”

Steve tries to keep up with where he’s going with all of this and tries not to dwell on the fact that the detective is looking less angry.

The light coming from the window hits his face in all the right places and Steve feels his fingers itch to sketch those features.

_No!_

“Yet, I’ve never met anyone as puzzling as you are, Rogers.” Barnes gives him a confused look. It’s like he’s gave up figuring Steve out.

Steve smiles genuinely in spite of himself. Howard climbs his lap and starts licking its paws.

_Meow._

Steve shakes his head lightly, still smiling. "I'm just glad I'm in now."

A long, loud sigh comes out of Barnes. "Just so you understand, I need to lay down some ground rules."

"You mean 'we'," Steve interrupts but there’s no heat behind it.

"No." Barnes points at him. "There's no 'we' here. You're pushing it Rogers."

Steve shrugs and then motions for the detective to continue. "Fine. Go ahead."

Barnes folds his arms over his chest. "The windows will be changed. They’ll be bullet-proof. Locks will change every two days. I'll have several eyes all over this building and most importantly, you are _not_ to go anywhere without me or at least you’re gonna tell me what your plans are. On a daily basis. Need I emphasize this much?"

Steve shakes his head but then remembers. "What about my classes?"

"You go on like usual. Don't worry about what I'll do."

Steve fears what's behind those words. He sighs a bit but tries not to upset the guy.

Not today at least.

"Am I clear?" Barnes raises his brow.

Steve nods. Howard mews.

"Now...” Barnes rubs his forehead. “I'm gonna regret what I'm gonna say next but ...do you have any questions?"

Steve ponders for seconds and then remembers what he’s been meaning to ask for a while.

"What's your name?"

There’s a moment of silence that makes Steve wonder if he’d done something wrong again.

A scowl forms on Barnes’s face. "Are you mocking me?" 

Steve shakes his head vehemently and then almost chokes on his spit. "No, no. I meant your first name. I only know you by your last name and it's…uh…I mean-don't you think since you're gonna be like-I mean..." Steve’s face is getting hotter by the second.

Since when did he fumble in front of the grumpy detective?

It's probably the intense gaze directed his way. 

Steve gulps and Howard jumps from his shoulder and scurries away.

_The traitor!_

He busies himself with moving the bowl around, eyes on the milk. "I mean, since you're gonna live here-"

Three knocks on the door save him. He shuts his mouth and watches as Barnes moves toward the door to open it. Steve breathes a sigh of relief.

The detective opens the door, smiles and takes a duffel bag from however is on the other side.

Closing the door, Steve frowns as Barnes comes back, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Who was that?” Steve asks, still sitting down.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh.”

Barnes adjusts the bag on his shoulder. “And it’s Bucky.”

Steve frowns again and Barnes casts his eyes down. “My name. First name. It’s Bucky.”

Heart beating fast, Steve nods and says the name back under his breath. He never thought it would be that and he would love to ask what it stands for but…there’s something in the air and he just pissed the guy off a while ago.

Maybe another day.

“Call me Steve then.”

Barnes nods and looks up which makes Steve look away, afraid for some reason.

_The heck is happening to me?_

“Okay, Steve. Now…I have a question.”

“Hmm?”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

_Right!_ They’re gonna live together and there’s only one bathroom.

"Uh...it's inside my room."

"Right. Okay."

Barnes doesn't move and neither does Steve. Howard jumps out of nowhere and onto Steve’s head.

"Howard! Jesus! Don't do that again."

He flinches at the paws scratching his head. Grabbing the kitten gently, he brings him into his arms and goes to get up but doesn’t want to. He’s already being scrutinized as it were by the piercing blue-gray eyes.

Barnes shakes his head at them and heads across the hall and into Steve’s room. The door to the bathroom shuts and Steve is left there to process what’s going to happen from now on.

“He’s in my bathroom,” he says to himself.

_Meow._

Steve puts Howard on the floor next to him and lies back down, head knocking on the wooden floor of the kitchen.

“Ow!”

But he doesn’t move. He needed that pain to remind himself that this will be his reality from now on.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

The pain thrumming in his wrist wakes him up in the middle of the night. He frowns and then hisses when he comes to consciousness. He’s been having a dreamless sleep so getting disrupted is the worst.

Pushing the comforter away, he swings his legs and rubs his tired face. Sighing, he leaves his room and tiptoes across the hall, fearing of waking Bucky up.

The detective had decided to take the couch until his 'friend' gets him an air mattress. Steve had given him an extra pillow and a clean bed sheet.

It turns out his light tiptoeing is useless because he finds that the man in question is fully awake and seems to be lost in papers and folders. _He's working?_

_Meow._

Steve notices that Howard is perched on the top of the couch, peering at Bucky. 

Bucky sighs. "What? I just literally fed you."

_Meow._

Bucky huffs as he flips through more papers. "I suggest you start helping out with these cases."

Howard jumps on the coffee table where the pile of folders and papers are, scattering some on the floor.

"Oh, come on!" Bucky complains and picks up some of the yellow papers off the floor, putting them back on the table.

Steve smiles in spite of himself. He never thought the detective would ever warm up to the kitten. 

The sudden throb of pain reminds him of why he was up in the first in place. So, he goes to the small kitchen and then...

"What's wrong?" Bucky asks, not even looking his way.

"Uh...are you talking to me or Howard?" Steve asks, smiling a bit.

Bucky snickers but doesn't turn his way yet. "Why the hell would I talk to a cat?"

"Uh..." Steve stops himself before admitting that he just saw him conversing with the cat. He runs his hand through his wild hair, suddenly self-conscious of his appearance.

"Oh, it's just my wrist. Need water to take my medication." 

Steve walks to one of the cabinets and opens it to get a glass. In a moment of pure forgetfulness, he reaches with his broken wrist. His fingers couldn't grip tightly because of the cast and ends up knocking the glass to the floor. The loud, disturbing sound fills the silence making Steve cringe in worry and embarrassment.

"Sorry, I...just..." and then Steve realizes that it's his house. His kitchen. He doesn't need justification. It was an accident. So, he shuts his mouth before he says something he'll regret later. 

All the way from the living room, Bucky says alarmingly, "Wait!"

Steve is alert. _Could they be here? Hydra?  
_

Bucky gets up and heads toward him. Steve notices that he has changed into gray sweatpants and a blue t-shirt. Probably from that secret duffel bag that he got earlier.

He looks different. He looks...softer. His hair is loose and covering half his face.

When he's finally standing before him, he starts, "Listen Steve." His voice is very serious. 

Steve braces himself for bad news. _Did Peggy die?_

Bucky clasps his hands together and puts them under his chin, looking like he's pleading for something. "I want you to know that when things like this happen..." And he motions to the broken glass on the floor. "That it's a reminder of how foolish and stupid you were when you got your ass involved in the first place."

Steve fumes. Why on earth did he think that he could have a decent conversation with the guy?

He's trying to construct a smart comeback when Bucky grabs his arm and it's a bit of a strong hold. "Don't move." 

This throws Steve off. He doesn't understand what the hell Bucky's trying to do. He feels his face flush at the grip on his arm. It's getting hotter by the second. 

"Wha-"

He's preparing to fight back when Bucky turns and looks around, hand still gripping Steve. "Do you have a broom or something? You know...to clean this mess up."

It dawns on Steve right then. This guy will stop at nothing to make fun of him.

Steve snickers and pulls his arm away, losing the burning grip. _Finally!_

"You know what? I'm not a kid, okay. I can clean up my mess." He goes to move around when Bucky curses.

"Jesus, Steve. Don't move. You'll cut your feet. You're basically surrounded by shards."

Steve looks around.

_Oh._

The glass shards are scattered all around his bare feet. He purses his lips and looks up at Bucky.

"I don’t have a broom. It broke a while ago."

Bucky sighs and grabs a towel and crouches down to start cleaning the floor. Sweeping the sparkling glass away.

Steve is about to stop him, tell him he doesn't have to. When he looks down, he feels his heart skip a beat. His body flushes at the image of the handsome detective way down there. At his feet. All Steve can see is his broad shoulders moving, head down, and dark hair moving with the motions.

"Uh..." Steve feels breathless. _Damn it!_ His lungs don't need this now.

Bucky looks up, still crouching, and says, "Done."

It takes Steve a lot not to reach out with his hand and trace that sharp jaw with his fingers.

The detective stares back at him for seconds too long and then abruptly stands up. He puts the towel in the sink. "There. But I still don't trust the tiny ones...you know, the ones we can't see with the naked eye."

Watching the detective washing his hands, then drying them, make Steve realize how he looks comfortable enough around his house. Steve watches him move back to the living room and then comes back with Steve’s sneakers. 

He shoves them under Steve nose.

Steve is finally able to speak. "What...What are you doing?"

“Wear them.”

Steve feels like he’s being treated like a child. It must be because Bucky feels sorry for him. For his frail body and many ailments.

He feels his face turn red, and he wants to punch Bucky all of a sudden. Counting to five in his head, he's able to compose himself as best as possible and raises his hands up.

“You know what? I’m out.” He steps back and thankfully doesn’t feel a thing prickling the sole of his feet.

Bucky frowns at him. “You’re acting like a kid, Rogers.”

Steve yells back before he can stop himself. “No, I’m acting like an adult because newsflash buddy, I _am_ one. And I’ll do as I want even if I want to walk on glass for no reason.”

Bucky throws his head back and groans loudly. “Oh my God. You're so dramatic!”

Steve turns after getting to his room and holds the door open. He can still see Bucky standing there, scowling his way.

“Well, boo hoo!”

Then both of them frown at the weird, stupid comeback.

Seconds later, Bucky sighs looking resigned. “Just take your goddamn medication.”

“No!” Steve shouts and closes the door with a force.

He slides against it and tries not to wince at the persistent pain in his wrist. He groans at his embarrassing and humiliating exchange with Bucky.

“Oh God…” he says to himself.

That exchange was painful...more than his wrist.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

Steve secures his backpack again over his shoulder and it sucks that he can’t use his right hand freely.

_That damned cast._

His heart is heavy since he's on his way to his class for the first time since the assault. What's making it worse is the grumpy detective hounding him as they’re walking across campus.

“Would you slow down, Rogers? You’re too old to be a nerd,” Bucky shouts from behind him.

Steve rolls his eyes and stops abruptly, making Bucky curse. Luckily, the blow to his back doesn't come and Steve is pissed. He wished the guy had collided and dropped and preferably never gotten up.

When the grumpy detective is next to him, Steve resumes walking.

“I don’t wanna be late for class. Plus, I need time to explain my stupid situation,” Steve stresses.

He reaches his building and opens the door with as much force as he can muster. He doesn’t want to look at Bucky. He still can’t get over what happened this morning.

The guy took a shower before him, literally walking inside his room to get to the bathroom without any regard to his wishes. And when he got out, he only had a towel around his waist. He didn’t have the decency to wear his clothes inside. He kept parading in that towel, making his coffee and drinking it on the couch. 

“I like to air dry,” he had said to Steve even though Steve didn’t ask.

Steve was busy trying his best not to stare. The helpless gentleman in him flushed all throughout but the artist in him couldn’t get enough of noticing the sculpted body.

_Fucking worst morning ever!_

Now Steve almost runs in the halls, and he can feel Bucky right behind him.

“You don’t wanna upset your lungs, Rogers. You just-“

Steve has had it with him. He turns suddenly, hands connecting to Bucky’s chest and pushing him away so hard making him stagger.

“Don’t talk about my health like you know everything. You don’t know shit!” Steve almost bellowed. He feels himself getting riled up and he doesn't want to feel this way before class. His classes are soothing to his mind. This guy is ruining it.

“Well, maybe if you took better care of yourself, you wouldn’t be outta breath like RIGHT NOW!” Bucky yells out those last two words.

Steve realizes at that moment that he _is_ breathing heavily. He wants to get out his inhaler but decides to wait a bit and turns around swiftly, continuing his walk to class. He just gotta talk a bit to forget that he might get an asthma attack.

_Please, not today!_

“I don’t see the point of you tagging along to my class. It’s just gonna be more suspicious.” He glances Bucky’s way who’s now walking with hands in his pockets, glancing around, probably observing his surroundings.

“Leave that to me, okay? You do your thing, I do mine.”

When Steve reaches the classroom, he turns around and addresses Bucky. “I don’t want any scene, okay? Plus, shouldn’t you be away, out of sight? I’m starting to think you’ve never been undercover before.”

Steve narrows his eyes at him, waiting. Bucky gives him that challenging glare. They hold eye-contact for few long seconds before Bucky breezes past him, marching into class as if he was expected to be there.

“Shit!” Steve says to himself.

He gets inside and heads directly to his seat and easel. It’s his sanctuary and he can’t believe that he’ll be watched somehow by an angry Bucky today.

Who is now wandering around like a grumpy uncle with his shabby suit and disheveled hair. He’s looking around, peering at some people’s work and Steve cringes.

“Bucky!” He hisses his way but the detective doesn’t hear him.

Steve is positive he's choosing not to.

_The bastard._

So, he marches and drags a wandering Bucky to his space.

“What?” Bucky asks in total fake innocence.

“I honestly believe you're not allowed to be here.”

“Why not?” Bucky is not looking his way, staring at the ceiling and seems to be calculating something.

“Because-“

“Steve! Good to have you back,” a voice calls out from in front of the class.

It’s Miss Sharon Carter. His teacher for this course. His very young, attractive teacher.

He really likes her class and doesn’t want Bucky ruining it.

She’s coming over to him and Bucky suddenly whispers his way, “So that’s why you were running to class.”

Steve flushes and glares his way. “That totally wasn’t-Hey Miss Carter.”

She smiles warmly at him. “I told you to just call me Sharon." Then her eyes land on his cast. "Oh my God…What happened to your hand?"

She steps closer and takes his broken wrist in her hands. Her touch is so gentle Steve wants to cry all of a sudden. 

"Uh-yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. See, I...uh..."

And she looks up at him with kind eyes and he doesn't know what to say.

"He fell down the stairs," Bucky says, hovering next to him.

Steve is glad of the save but he still doesn't want him to butt in. 

"Yup. I'm clumsy." He laughs nervously.

"He's very clumsy," Bucky agrees, nodding his head enthusiastically. 

Miss Carter narrows her eyes at Bucky and Steve braces himself.

_Oh God..._

"I'm sorry and you are?"

"This is um..."

The detective is suddenly happy go lucky. "Hey! I'm Bucky."

And he hugs Steve to his side almost holding him in a headlock. "Best friends since childhood…inseparable on both school yard and battlefield.”

Steve can’t disguise his horror. _What the hell?_

And Miss Carter frowns. “Battlefield?”

Steve lets out a nervous laugh. “He’s just being dramatic." Then turns to give him the evil eye.

Bucky doesn't even look his way and instead ruffles his hair. “Yup. Learned it from the best here.”

Steve wants to kill him.

Miss Carter, bless her, doesn't make it awkward. “Well, it’s nice to meet you…”

“Do you mind,” Bucky starts. “If I stay in your class today. See... I’m visiting and I’m very interested in what Steve does. Just for today. I won’t be a nuisance.”

“Bucky, no-“

Miss Carter smiles brightly. “Of course you can. You can visit us for this whole week if you’d like.”

“Splendid. Thanks for understanding because I'd take a bullet for him," Bucky says.

That last part catches Steve and his teacher off guard. It came out of nowhere that Steve stares at him, honestly confused with where the guy is going with this.

Miss Carter looks between them. "You guys are pretty close. That's nice."

"No, you gotta know that I meant it literally. Like I would _literally_ take a bullet for him." Bucky's voice is so serious that Steve holds his breath.  


His ears are ringing and he doesn't know if it's anger or fascination.

Miss Carter pats Bucky's shoulder. "Well, I'm glad Steve has a friend like you Bucky."

Then she turns to Steve. “Will you be okay? With your hand I mean?”

Steve is still staring at Bucky. When he sees that it's silent for too long, he realizes that she's waiting for him to answer.

“Uh-yeah. That’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I won’t be able to do much ‘cause I’m right handed but I don’t want to miss classes. I want to keep up, you know.”

“Of course. Well, good luck and let me know if you need help.” She turns and smiles at Bucky. “Good to meet you Bucky.”

And she excuses herself.  


Steve punches Bucky's arm and he flinches. "Ow! What the hell was that for? 

Steve also wants to punch his face so bad if it weren’t for its beauty. "Really? You don't know?"

"Relax. I'm just doing my job."

"You're drawing attention to yourself...wait," Steve shakes his head and then his eyes widens with a horrible realization. "Doing your...wait, oh my God. You think she's a threat?"

Bucky shrugs. "I don't trust anyone."

Steve face-palms. "I had a course with her two years ago. I've known her long before this whole thing went down."

Bucky, for some reason, smirks. "Wow, you really have a crush on her."

Steve folds his arms over his chest. "Are you twelve?"

"No, I'm fourteen." Bucky rolls his eyes.

Bucky looks away and toward Miss Carter who is talking to another student. "Good, 'cause I hate to break it to ya, Rogers but I think she's crushing on me."

Steve snickers. "Really?" 

Bucky looks for a chair and drags it to sit next to Steve who pushes the chair away. Bucky brings it back again slowly as if Steve is blind and can’t see him doing that.

"She was gazing at my cheekbones too much."  


Steve huffs and turns Bucky to face him. There's a look of surprise on the detective's face at Steve's action.

He points at him and hisses for the millionth time that day. "Oh please, everybody gazes at your freakin' spectacular cheekbones. They're God's given gift to people, artists in particular. So look for another proof."

Bucky looks at him funny and then it clicks in Steve's head. The realization of what he just said. He feels his face heat up and doesn't know what to do to remedy the situation. 

_I'll kill myself. That's the only way,_ Steve thinks.

The detective smirks and steps closer, making Steve take a step back. "You've been studying my cheekbones?"

Steve clears his throat. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm an artist. I'm not blind."

He doesn't wait for Bucky's response and instead turns around and sits on his stool. He pulls his notebook from his bag and goes on as if Bucky disappeared all of a sudden. He already wants the earth to swallow him. What the hell was his mouth thinking, spewing those words about Bucky's fuckin' cheekbones.  


_ God...He lives with me! _

He sighs so loud, some of the students near him glare his way.

He flushes and looks away. Then Bucky sits on the chair he dragged up earlier, which is now situated a few feet behind Steve.

"Rest assured Rogers," Bucky leans over and admits softly, "She's not my type."

Steve is so thankful the guy is sitting behind him because he is so sure his face is flaming red.

_I need to talk to Clint,_ he thinks mournfully. 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

As soon as the class has finished and Miss Carter has dismissed them, Steve grabs his backpack and storms out of the room. He’s feeling sad and angry at the same time. His wrist failed him earlier when he tried to sketch something.

Walking through the semi quiet campus this late, he starts feeling tears well up in his eyes. He lifts his head a bit, determined not to let them fall.

His feet take him to the café Clint runs on campus. The glass doors reflect that Bucky is right behind him, only this time a few feet away, walking leisurely while observing his surroundings.

That’s another thing that's riling him up too. It’s like he’s his babysitter.

_I’m a grown ass man, damn it!_

With this overwhelming feel of anger and hopelessness, he storms into the café, not really bothering with anything but heading to his friend.

Clint looks up, smiles and waves. “Hey Steve.”

He stops wiping the counter as Steve drops his backpack on ground and sits heavily on the stool. He doesn’t say anything but Clint quickly nods and wipes his hands first.

“Okay, this calls for strong black coffee,” Clint says before he goes to prepare a cup.

Steve lays his head on the counter and looks at the place. It’s not crowded since it’s around 8 o’clock at night. He sighs and raises his head when he hears the clank of cup on the counter.

“Here ya go, Steve,” Clint says brightly.

Steve wants to smile back. He really does but doesn’t have it in him. He feels there’s a weight on his chest and this time it has nothing to do with his asthma. Instead, he nods and takes a sip.

“What’s wrong?” Clint asks, as he leans over, his elbows on the counter.

Steve is about to unload everything onto him when he notices that Bucky is walking around the counter and heading to the back.

Clint stops him with a stretched arm.

“Hey. Hi detective.”

Bucky just nods his way, eyes cold. “Clint Barton.”

“I’m afraid you’re not allowed back there. Just staff members.”

“Bucky…” Steve pleads. He really doesn’t want to get irritated.

The detective doesn’t even look Steve’s way and instead just stares at Clint. Steve notices the awkward exchange and how Clint is obviously terrified but trying to stand his ground.

“I could arrest you for disrupting justice,” Bucky says very calmly.

Steve straightens up this time and scowls. “Bucky!”

Clint gulps and waves his hand Steve’s way. “It’s okay, Steve. Sure. Go ahead detective.”

Bucky smiles widely and it bewilders Steve for seconds.

When he disappears to the back, Clint turns around to face Steve. He heaves a long sigh.

“Oh my God. I thought my heart was gonna stop.”

Steve is trying his best not to break the cup he’s holding in his hand.

Clint apparently notices. “It’s all right, Steve. He’s just doing his job.”

“His job?” Steve almost shouts.

Then he notices some students are looking at him warily. He lowers his voice. “He’s being a nuisance. He has no right to _raid_ your place.”

“He’s a cop. Therefore, he has a gun for sure. So, I don’t interfere with such people. I wanna live.”

Steve rubs the area between his eyes. “I swear to God. I can’t handle anymore of his…”

He pauses when Bucky appears from the back. He stands close to Clint.

Bucky takes one more step and Steve hears a whimper escape Clint. “Your locker smells, Clint Barton.”

Clint and Steve stare at him as he walks from behind the counter and heads to a table at the corner.

Such a strategic place, Steve observes. It’s away from everyone and his back is to the corner. He has perfect view of the whole café.

This hits Steve. He realizes that he’s going to have that person do that, hover over him for God knows how long. Simply because they think he can’t handle taking care of himself.

He turns back to Clint who’s just done serving a student. “I can’t stand it, Clint. I can’t stand him. He’s…urgh!”

“Relax, Steve." Clint sighs. "He’s just doing his job.”

Steve runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “He hijacks my shower, parades half naked in my apartment, and sometimes I catch him smoking on the fire-escape. He's...I don’t like someone breathing down my neck.”

“Steve-“

“And you wouldn’t believe what he just did in my class.” Steve throws his hands in the air. “He told Miss Carter these lies about being my best friend in the battlefield- _the battlefield, Clint_ -and he-"

“Have a bit of this,” Clint says as he hands him a piece of apple pie.

Steve holds the fork in his left hand but doesn't eat. He does calm down though.

He lets out a long breath and looks up at Clint who has a gentle smile on his face.

That smiles makes Steve smile. Every time.

Clint wears his heart on his sleeves and his heart is golden.

When Steve still doesn't take a bite, Clint leans over. He seems to be gathering his thoughts.

“What?” Steve asks as he sips his coffee.

“You need to remember that he’s doing his job.”

Steve didn’t expect that. He puts the fork down. “He doesn’t have to. Captain Fury shouldn’t have assigned him this in the first place. He's-“

“Look at him for God’s sake,” Clint nods with head toward where Bucky is sitting.

Steve turns around and finds that Bucky is staring off out the window. His cellphone is in his hand, but his other hand is under his chin. He seems to be in deep thought.

There’s a mournful look on his face.

Steve’s heart breaks a bit and he slowly turns back to Clint.

Clint raises his brow and points at Bucky. “You think he’s loving tagging along with you every minute of his day? He’s probably going out of his mind.”

Steve lowers his eyes and feels bad for everything he had said earlier.

“Put yourself in his shoes, Steve. He’s probably one of the best detectives, yet he’s turned into a babysitter.”

“Hey," Steve protests.

“You know what I mean.” Clint slings the small towel over his shoulder.

Steve forgets about the pie and doesn’t feel like drinking his coffee anymore.

"Could you make this to-go please?" Steve asks pointing at the pie.

Clint pulls a small box from below the counter and proceeds to put the small piece inside.

“Cut him some slack, Stevie. Who knows? You might end up becoming friends?”

Steve crumbles the napkin that was next to his plate and throws it at Clint’s face. His friend catches it and goes to attend to a customer leaving him alone with his guilty conscious.

 

~~~

 

The ride home in the cab is quiet. More awkward for Steve. All the time Clint's words are ringing in his ears. He's been too angry to consider Bucky's own feelings about this whole situation.

As soon as he gets inside the building, he starts to gather his thoughts. He needs to say something to Bucky.

When he's standing in front of his place, he gets his keys out but Bucky stops him.

“They won’t work,” Bucky says calmly.

Steve frowns as he looks up at him. Bucky sighs and pulls out a set of keys and proceeds to open the door.

It opens and Steve gets inside after Bucky.

_Meow._

Howard runs from the kitchen and latches on Bucky’s leg.

Steve is astounded at the scene.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Bucky huffs.

Howard tries to climb him but falls twice before Bucky stretches his arm for him to crawl up. The kitten then rests on his shoulder.

Bucky looks at him. “I really don’t like you, Howard. Just so you know. We are _not_ friends.”

The scene jars Steve for seconds. It’s so domestic and it’s weird at the same time to see Howard taken with the guy.

Bucky goes around checking and he heads to the windows. He opens them and retrieves some folders.

They seem to be new additions to the previous ones.

When Bucky turns around, he pauses as he looks at Steve. “Don’t ask.”

“I though the captain said you’re not supposed to work on cases,” Steve comments as he stands by the door. The bag from Clint’s café is still in his hands. He’s fidgeting and his heart is beating fast.

Bucky gets upset all of a sudden. “Fury can go fuck himself.”

Steve raises his brows in shock at the admission. “Okay.”

Huffing at Howard who miraculously doesn’t fall off his shoulder, Bucky flops down on the couch.

“You should know Steve that your windows were changed. They’re bullet-proof now. Locks have been changed but you know that already.”

Steve tries, really tries, not to think how strangers came inside his place earlier.

He shakes his head, closes his eyes and takes two deep breaths. When he opens his eyes, he finds Bucky immersed in paper work. Howard still sitting on his shoulder, peeking at the papers as if he’s able to read what Bucky is scribbling.

“Uh…” Steve pauses fearing his heart may stop at what he’s about to say. He’s worried how Bucky would take it.

“What?” Bucky asks without looking.

When Steve doesn't answer, he looks up and stretches his long legs on the coffee table. Putting his foot over the other, he pulls the folders to his lap and waits for Steve.

_Meow._

“I just wanted to say…I’m sorry.”

Bucky looks puzzled then upset in seconds. “Oh Jesus, what did you do now? I swear to God Steve-“

“No, no. It’s not like that.”

Bucky frowns. His hands stop writing and waits.

Steve closes his hands firmly around the bag to stop them from shaking.

“I’ve,” he clears his throat and casts his eyes down. “I’ve been giving you a hard time and it’s not fair. I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t appreciative of your efforts. I know you hate this as much as I do, if not more…Somewhere along the way I forgot that you’re just doing your job. So thank you for putting up with me...with this whole situation.”

Steve takes a deep breath and looks up.

He isn’t prepared for that look that Bucky is giving him. It’s too vague. It’s unreadable and Steve panics a bit.

_Did I step over the line?_

“Here. This is some peace offering,” Steve says as he crosses over.

He pulls the box out of the bag and puts it on the coffee table, near Bucky's feet. He points at it. “It’s apple pie. You should try it. It’s the best.”

Bucky never takes his eyes off Steve. He doesn’t even glance at the pie. Steve can’t handle it anymore, so he crumbles the bag in his hands and points at his room. “I’m gonna turn in. So…”

And he turns around and almost runs all the way to his room. Once inside, he closes the door and leans his back against it. Then his hand reaches for the inhaler in his pocket. He puffs twice and breathes calmly.

It takes him seconds to realize that he wasn't out of breath. At all.

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.

 

Steve wakes up to a nice smell. The smell of food. Something warm and homey.

He gets out of bed and takes another whiff. It’s so good that his mouth waters. He notices that his door is ajar, so that means Bucky had already woken up, used the bathroom and left the room.

It still bothers him that the detective would enter his room, use the shower and leave without Steve feeling him do all of that.

And Steve isn’t a heavy sleeper. He would wake up at the slightest movement.

_Must be that training of being undercover._

The events of last night come to his mind and he face-palms.

He groans at the memory.

He needs to forget and hopes for the best that Bucky did eat that pie and accepted the truce.

Standing up, he heads to his bathroom. After taking a quick shower, he makes sure that he dresses heavily since he doesn’t want to catch cold. With his fragile body, he doesn't want to take chances.

He puts on wool socks that his mom had bought him a long time ago. They are the warmest of the bunch he has.

He takes a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out of his room. He walks to the kitchen that is open to the small living room and pauses at the sight before him.

Bucky is sitting on the couch cleaning…a gun.

Steve remembers Clint all of a sudden and what he said about fear of Bucky because of him owning a gun. This is the first time he sees Bucky with a weapon.

Did he walk in on him cleaning it up before hiding it?

_Nah, this is Bucky. His name is synonymous with 'I don't give a shit'.  
_

“Uh…good morning,” Steve starts as he pulls his sleeves to cover his cold hands. He’s still feeling cold after the shower. And he’s also nervous of what’s going on with Bucky but he refuses to admit that to himself.

“Morning,” Bucky says without looking up.

_Meow._

Steve notices Howard sitting on Bucky’s foot looking comfortable.

Suddenly, he’s scared for the little guy.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” He asks, still standing as far away as possible from Bucky.

Bucky actually snickers softly and it warms Steve’s heart because it sounds genuine.

Really genuine.

“Yeah. Weapons tend to be dangerous.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I meant to have it around Howard.”

Bucky looks up. “If you’re afraid he’s gonna use it, don’t worry. No opposable thumbs. Remember?”

Steve blushes, feeling embarrassed.

_So obviously Bucky’s still his old grumpy self._

He turns to grab a cup of coffee when Bucky speaks, “I made breakfast.”

Steve pauses, coffee mug in one hand and the pot in the other. He looks back at the detective but finds him still engrossed in cleaning up.

“You...you did?”

“Yeah. Your share is in the oven.” He assembles the weapon and Steve flinches at the sound.

He puts the mug away, not pouring coffee yet. He wants to see what Bucky made him. Part of him really wishes it’s not a joke.

Opening the oven, he finds a plate with a stack of pancakes. Six pieces with melted butter on top.

It looks devastatingly delicious.

He pulls the plate out and looks at the pancakes for few long seconds.

It’s probably longer than necessary because Bucky says, “You expect it to talk back?”

Steve looks up and finds Bucky walking his way with his own mug. He pours himself more coffee and Steve is still watching him.

“Um…how did you make these?” He asks softly, still surprised.

“My hands.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I mean…” And he goes and opens his small fridge. “I don’t have milk…”

He finds that his fridge is stacked with fresh food, milk and some other stuff Steve has never thought of buying.

“Who got these?”

Bucky sips his coffee with his eyes directed at Steve. He’s studying him and Steve is very much aware of that so he challenges him by staring back.

He shrugs. “I sent Howard.”

Steve looks at him and Bucky has a serious look on his face. Then a small laugh escapes Steve at the thought of the little kitten carrying groceries. He runs his good hand through his now dry hair.

“I thought he didn’t have opposable thumbs.” Steve raises his brow at Bucky.

Bucky looks at him thoughtfully and then slowly brings his mug to his mouth to take a sip. Then Steve notices a soft smile forming on Bucky's lips before he hides behind the mug.

That simple bashful smile does something to Steve and he doesn’t really know what that is. It scares him a bit and his heart is back at it again, skipping a beat. His breath quickens.

_Abort!_

So he blurts, “I wanna go visit Peggy today.”

Bucky is quiet for few seconds and Steve looks away. His hands play with his long sleeves. He can feel the eyes of the detective on him. His ears tingle and his face heats up.

Then he hears, "Okay.”

Steve looks back at him. "Yeah?"

"Sure. She's still the same though."

He sighs hopelessly. "I know."

Grabbing a fork, Steve digs in. He tries not to moan at the delicious taste of the pancakes.

Bucky goes back to work on his papers.

Howard is now at Steve’s feet.

_Meow._

“Oh now you remember me,” Steve mutters under his breath.

He climbs Steve’s leg and he lifts him up. Howard finally rests on Steve’s head.

Steve sighs and continues to eat.

 

~~~

 

When they reach Peggy’s floor, they find that the security guard is still there.

Steve heads to her room but doesn’t feel Bucky next to him anymore. He turns back and finds him looking around.

“You’re not coming?” Steve asks.

It seems that his question surprises Bucky for he looks at him strangely.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks softly as he steps toward him.

“Nothing. I'm just gonna go get some coffee. I’ll be right there. You go ahead.”

Steve frowns. “You just drank earlier.”

Bucky gives him a look and Steve raises his hands up. Bucky points at him. "I'm a coffee junkie. Sue me."

"Nope. I'm good."

They part ways and for the first time Steve finds himself walking alone. Without someone watching over him.

He shivers and draws his light blue cardigan closed around his small frame. He nods at the security guard in greeting and smiles before entering Peggy’s room.

He freezes inside when he sees a man standing at the foot of the bed, his finger drawing circles on the sheets.

And he's wearing sunglasses. Inside.

Steve relaxes a bit because him being inside means he was cleared by the security outside.

The peculiar state of the guy makes Steve decide to not say anything since the guy’s back is to him.

“You know Pegs. I never thought it’d be this way. Funny, huh?”

Steve takes few steps and clears his throat. The guy turns around and makes a startling yelping sound, his hand slamming on his chest dramatically.

“Jesus, you scared me.” He huffs.

Steve observed the guy now that he's facing him. Somehow he doesn’t believe that he would be related to Peggy Carter. Something about his aura doesn’t match with that of hers.

He has a goatee, a very sharp suit, shiny black shoes and a very expensive watch.

“Who are you?” Steve asks, head tilted to the side still examining the guy.

“Me? I should be asking you that question. You her grandson or something? Wait, that can't be possible. I'd have known. Then again you never know with Pegs-”

Steve decides to save him the trouble. “No. I’m Steve Rogers. Her neighbor. I just came to check on her. And you are?”

The guy snickers and Steve doesn't understand that reaction. He raises his brow at Steve. "Seriously? You don't know who I am?"

"Uh...Sorry. No."

The man takes a deep breath and stands proudly. “Tony Stark.”

Steve tries to understand why he assumed he'd know him. The name isn't familiar to him.

“Are you...family?”

Tony Stark snickers and makes a wave of his hand. “God no. Can you imagine? I mean who knows if I have siblings. Dad played around. Frankly, I don’t see what she saw in him. I mean my old man said they were just friends, and she was a knock out, you know. I didn’t believe my dad. Who could’ve resisted her back then? You know, for a brief period of my life…”

Steve can’t believe how fast the guy talks. He’s trying to keep up but his head is dizzy with information.

“I thought she was my mom. I thought maybe she gave me up. Then I was sure she was his mistress but then again you can’t prove that. She was nice to me when I was a rebelling teenager. Every time she’d visit dad, she’d try to engage with me like a normal human being but then I couldn’t shake the-“

“Who the hell are you?” Bucky’s harsh voice comes from behind Steve.

Stark freezes and looks shocked that he was interrupted. Steve turns around and sees that Bucky is holding a cup of coffee and a bottle of water. He hands the water over to Steve without taking his eyes off Stark.

“Thanks,” Steve says softly, eyes on Bucky.

He prays there won’t be punches thrown around any given second.

“Are you kidding me? You too?"

"The fuck?" Bucky frowns so hard Steve is afraid his facial features will freeze that way.

Stark makes a grand wave of his hand. "I’m Tony Stark.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Bucky asks, narrowing his eyes at the guy.

Stark gasps. Literally gasps. He puts his hand over his chest in what clearly translates as hurt.

“Only the most notable genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist around the country if not the world.”

“And here I thought I met all assholes in my lifetime,” Bucky says before he sips his coffee loudly.

Steve couldn’t help but snicker. Then he blushes as he realizes that what he did was rude.

_Bucky’s influence, must be._

“Who are you?” Stark asks and he takes a few steps and jabs his finger on Bucky’s chest. Steve is on edge because that doesn’t bode well.

_Run Stark. Run!_

“I’m Steve’s best friend and we’re here to visit his neighbor Peggy.”

Steve looks up at Bucky who's still glaring at Stark. He knows that what he said is part of his cover but it kinda warms his heart a bit. If only it were true...

He smiles sadly and looks away.

Stark steps back and narrows his eyes at the both of them. He puts his hand on his chin, in thought. “I’m getting creepy vibes from you two.”

“Really?" Bucky asks with a mocking tone. "I could say the same thing about you.”

Steve leans over toward Bucky and whispers, “His father knew Peggy. Some sort of history.”

“Listen. I like the lady. We have fond memories and I came as soon as I heard. I know I'm late. Plus, I wanna check on the kitten I got her.”

Steve freezes. “Kitten?”

“Yeah. I sent her a small gray Scottish fold and named it Howard. After my dad.” He laughs humorlessly and looks at Peggy with a sad expression on his face. “I thought he could keep her company. You might say the name is a cruel joke but I think she got it as a kind and funny gesture. She’s a smart gal.”

Steve feels his chest tightens. He’s not ready to lose Howard. The kitten's presence grew on him. He would always sleep at the foot of his bed before scurrying away to spend most of the day lounging at the couch with Bucky. He’s used to it welcoming him home every time...

Bucky surprises Steve when he says, “There was no kitten when they found her.”

Stark frowns. “How do you know?”

“Do you see any kitten around here?”

“I don’t like you mister,” Stark says as he picks up the coat on the chair beside the bed. He flamboyantly puts it on.

Steve still doesn’t want to ruin where Bucky is going with this, so he keeps quiet.

“If you want, you can talk to the cops who got there at the scene.” Bucky shrugs.

Steve holds his breath. He tries to remember if the kitten was put in the report.

He has no idea.

Stark fixes his lapels, goes around the bed and pats Peggy’s hand. He hovers a bit before muttering, “Fuck it. Sorry Ma.” and lays a soft kiss on her wrinkled forehead.

Steve watches him and there seems to be a long history between the two families. Somehow Peggy never talked to him about anyone named Howard or Tony Stark.

He's discovering so many new things about Peggy and he doesn't know how to feel about that.

It's like she's a total stranger.

“Well, I’m off to go. I wasted too much time talking.”

“You think?” Bucky snickers.

Stark purses his lips and then points at Bucky. “I hope I don’t see you here again.”

“Likewise.”

He moves past them, muttering. “She has the weirdest friends.”

When the door closes, Steve lets out a breath of relief. His hand reaches out and grasps Bucky's arm. "He's gonna take Howard."

"Over my dead body," Bucky mutters before sipping more coffee.

Steve is taken aback, not by the tone in his voice, but by the look in his eyes.

The amount of determination and will in those gray-blue eyes fascinated him.

He removes his hand and runs it through his hair in frustration. "What if he asks the cops? Finds out that there was a kitten?"

"Where on earth would he find that?" Bucky asks in a bored manner.

"Duh. The records."

Bucky finishes drinking his coffee and crumbles the paper cup. "There's no record of a kitten."

"How...Wait, didn't you write that in the report when I came to the station?"

Bucky shakes his head and looks around, obviously for a trash can.

"Why?"

Bucky doesn't look his way and growls when he can't find one. "How the hell isn't there a trash can here?"

Steve wants him to look his way but it's futile. "Bucky? Could you just tell me why?"

He has this fear that Bucky is playing some sort of detective game behind his silence. That there is a reason behind keeping Howard a secret from the cops.

"I'll leave you with Peggy while I go throw this away." Bucky leaves the room without a glance back.

Steve almost says something to stop him but just gives up. His shoulders droop and he gnaws on his lower lip, thinking.

He has never met a confusing and complex person such as Bucky.

"It's because he adores you," a weak voice says behind him.

He turns around fast and huffs out a breathless laugh.

"Peggy..."

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2017!
> 
> I've been busy with family, holidays, and work. I just got back to my fics. Here's a new chapter. I'll start updating my other fics soon.

 

 

“You’re awake?” Steve asks breathlessly.

Peggy smiles tiredly. “It seems so.”

He goes back and forth between her bed and the door. Then he turns to her and motions to the door. “I’m gonna go call the doctor.”

“No,” Peggy says determinedly.

He whips his head back, frowning. She beckons him over and he walks up to her.

When he sits on the chair beside her, he asks, “But why? I don’t understand.”

“The doctor already knows, Steve. I woke up two days ago," she admits with a twinkle in her eye.

Steve sits back, sighs. He shakes his head in confusion. Then he stares at the door then back at her. “Oh, but…wait…Bucky didn’t tell me. He…”

And he feels his heart speed up and his face heats up. To think he trusted the guy. He has made peace with him and this is how he’s repaid.

Her hand touches his knee. “Steve? Steve?”

He jerks back. “Huh?”

“No one knows except the doctor and…me of course.” And she lets out a soft laugh.

Steve lets out a breath in relief. He really doesn’t want to fight Bucky. Not anymore. He’s happy with their friendly rapport these days.

He leans over, hands over his knees. “Is it because…Are you afraid they’re gonna come back?”

She snickers. “Let them. Like I’d be scared.”

Steve smiles in spite of himself. “Who are you Peggy Carter?”

She pats his hand. “You already know me, Steve Rogers. Just an old lady trying to live a quiet life.”

“You really don’t wanna say, huh?”

She shakes her head slightly and he nods, smiling. “Well, one day you’ll tell me the whole story but right now, how about you tell me why you’re keeping this a secret…You waking up.”

“Simple answer?”

He nods and she sighs. “I just want to relax a bit and think before the police drill me. I know they’re going to ask. I know what they want to know. What they probably already know...Don’t get me wrong, darling. I _will_ cooperate. I just…I need to gather my wits and remember everything of that night in order to actually help.”

Steve feels for her given her age. He reaches out and holds her hand between his. “Okay. But I think Bucky will help. The detective who was just here with me.”

Her hand grasps his tightly. “Oh, no. You are _not_ to tell that hot-blooded young man.”

His eyes widen in surprise at her words. How she read Bucky.

_Well, she’s kinda right._

“But Peggy, he’s the detective working on your case.”

“Precisely my point dear.”

He feels conflicted and there must’ve been a worried expression on his face for Peggy regards him with worried eyes. “What is it Steve?”

“How can I keep something like this from him? We live together.”

Then he flushes to the roots of his hair as he realized how that might have sounded.

“Oh, you two are together?” She asks, smiling his way.

Steve shakes his head so fast he feels he’s gonna need to massage his neck later. “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that…but…long story short, he’s assigned as my protection and I really believe he should know. And don’t worry Peggy, I’ll make sure he’s never to tell his superior...”

She shakes her head and his heart falls.

“Peggy…" he starts softly. “I trust the guy. With my life.”

It jars him a bit how strongly he believes in that statement. He wrings his hands together, very much nervous about what he just admitted to her.

“I know, Steve. And he adores you too. But I can’t risk it darling. Give me two days. They’ll know. He’ll know.”

He still doesn’t feel comfortable not telling Bucky. He goes to convince her when the door opens. He whips his head back and sees Bucky getting in as quietly as possible.

“You’re here,” Steve breathes.

“Of course I’m here.” Bucky shrugs, hands in pockets. “I’m with you.”

Steve observes Bucky and he finds that the detective is fidgety but his eyes are sincere. Then he remembers Peggy and when he looks back, his old neighbor is pretending to be asleep. He sighs and pats her hand.

“I’ll definitely see you in two days Peggy,” he says with a smile.

When he’s at the door, Bucky frowns. “Why two days?”

Steve opens the door and holds it for Bucky. He shrugs and it pains him to lie but he has to grant Peggy her wish.

“I have classes, remember?”

 

 

~~~

 

 

Later that night, Steve isn’t having the best sleep.

He feels constricted. Something isn’t right with his nose.

His lungs.

His breathing.

He changes his position and sleeps on his back.

It’s worse.

He is slowly becoming conscious but doesn’t want to open his eyes. Sleep is so sweet.

He turns on his left side and then inhales deeply but something is in his airway.

He coughs. And coughs and coughs.

This time he opens his eyes, sits abruptly and gasps for breath.

What he sees in his room is so scary and almost ominous.

His room is full of …dust?

_Maybe it's my eyes._

He looks around and grabs his glasses. It turns out it’s not his sight that is making this up. The air is literally full of dust.

Worse. It’s like his room is in the middle of a sand storm.

He covers his mouth and nose but it’s too late.

It seems that it's been like this for a while.

It’s gotten to his lungs. He can’t inhale nor exhale.

The need to escape drives him to move and he falls off the bed. His hand reaches for the inhaler on his nightstand. His eyes start to water and he’s shaking.

As soon as he puffed, he knew. He knew that it wouldn’t work.

And it didn’t.

Not while he’d been inhaling all of this while asleep.

His eyes look at the door and he quickly gets up.

“Bucky…” he gasps.

The coughs and the difficulty of breathing are wracking his body and he falls in the hall leading to the living room.

He realizes that the hall and the rest of his place is clear.

The air is clear. But now he's incapable of thinking why. 

He tries to inhale the fresh air but it's too late.

The asthma is here. And nothing will stop it. 

He finally finds the strength to yell, “Bucky!”

And he hears him and it's like he's so far away. Like in a dream.

"Yeah? What is it?" Bucky's grumpy voice reaches him.

Steve takes two more steps and finds himself near the living room, kitchen to his right. The coughing and wheezing disorients him, and he ends up losing his footing.

He doesn’t hit the ground though. 

Strong arms wrap around his frame and a voice is close to his ear.

"Hey, hey, hey..."

It’s Bucky and Steve is relieved.

"Jesus Christ, Steve. What happened?"

The scary sounds emitting from his own chest and throat are enough to tip Bucky off. Steve is continuously gasping for air. 

"Where's your inhaler?" Bucky asks with panic. Steve just grips his arms tightly. 

Bucky slides down on the floor, Steve in his arms.

He's clawing at his own bony chest. "I can't...I can't..." and tears start brimming his eyes. Steve doesn't know if it’s because he's scared or because of the asthma.

"It's okay. It's okay," Bucky keeps whispering. "You're gonna be okay. Just breathe with me."

"I can't." Steve barely lets out as he keeps feeling that his chest is failing him. His lungs are shrinking and not doing their proper job. 

Bucky maneuvers him until Steve’s back is to his bare and warm chest. His hands go to rest on Steve's bony chest. 

He speaks right in Steve's ear. His voice is so soft and dreamy-like. "Breathe with me, yeah?"

Steve shakes his head and he's starting to see spots.

"Steve?"

Then Bucky suddenly shouts, "Monty! Monty! Get the fuck in here."

Steve doesn't know what Bucky is doing. Is he losing his mind? Who’s Monty?

He squeezes Bucky’s thighs as he lies between them. He can't speak anymore. The energy is leaving him but he wants to fight one more time.

A tall lean man with a thin mustache breaks the door and runs toward them. He stops abruptly in front of them and Steve doesn't blame him.

He’s dying and it ain’t pretty.

"Bloody hell!" He swears softly but his eyes are sympathetic.

"Call 911 now!" Bucky yells and then his friend, Steve can't remember his name, pulls his phone out and dials the number.

Steve wants them to figure out how on earth his room turned that way. He points towards it and Bucky turns and swears.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He says under his breath then speaks to his friend. “Monty. Go check the room. Tell Dum Dum to check the parameters. Now!”

“Of course. Ambulance is on the way.” Then he crouches down and pats Steve’s knee. “Hold on there ol' chap.”

“Monty, check the ventilation unit. Open the fuckin’ windows.”

All this time with Bucky and his friend talking, Steve is seeing images. People should know that you don't see your life flash before your eyes when you're dying.

No.

He’s seeing his dreams flash before his eyes.

Like moving pictures.

He’s seeing himself graduating, painting, opening a gallery.

He’s seeing himself getting older, married, and with kids probably. Two.

A son and a daughter. Oh and her name is Sarah.

“Hey, Steve. Please, come on," a voice whispers desperately in his ear. "Hold on, yeah?”

Someone is talking to him.

He’s being jostled and he doesn’t think he moved but someone lifted him up because he doesn’t feel the cold floor anymore.

He feels warm and enveloped in something warm.

Strong, warm arms.

“Steve, stay with me. Just for a little longer.”

Steve has always taken pride in fighting till the end.

Yet, he feels like he lost this one.

His body stopped shaking and jerking trying to survive and he’s still now.

His lips feel so cold.

Only a faint wheezing sound escapes his lips.

“I…”

“What’s that?” Bucky’s voice comes back.

Steve turns his head slightly and tries to look at that beautiful face. Since he’s going anyway, it won’t hurt to let that face be the last thing to see.

“I’m…sorry. Truly," he whispers.

He could feel a tear slide down his face. Could he be anymore pathetic?

“For what?” Bucky asks, confused.

Steve notices that everything is starting to go black, except that face. Those eyes. Those cheeks.

“For being...mean...to you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rogers. Don’t talk.”

Steve finds that funny. Typical Bucky reaction.

But all he can do is smile weakly. His hand reaches out and touches Bucky’s shoulder. “Tell...Clint…”

“Shut up! You’re gonna be fine. Don’t speak. You need your energy.”

And then Steve can’t hear what Bucky’s saying. He sees his lips moving but there’s no sound.

_Well, it’s been a wild ride._

_At least ma is waiting._

 

And then everything fades to black.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

The steady beeping of the heart monitor infiltrates his dreams.

It’s not gradual. It’s sudden and he opens his eyes wide and fast.

The bland ceiling meets his eyes and he’s afraid of turning to the side. Either he made it and he’s at the hospital or he’s at the morgue and this is just his soul leaving his body.

He closes his eyes again and then realizes that he’s breathing.

It’s going smooth.

No restriction. No blockage.

He inhales a bit for trial.

There’s nothing wrong with him now. His airways are clear.

Steve closes his eyes again in gratitude. It’s a bliss whenever he gets these moments.

Then he turns his head to the right and opens his eyes. He didn't expect to see Peggy on a wheelchair.

She’s holding a book and is reading…or writing, he’s not sure.

“Hey,” he says with a hoarse voice.

She looks up and he’s so glad for that smile.

“Oh, hello Steve. Why are you always so dramatic darling?”

He wants to laugh but is afraid he’d upset his chest.

She wheels herself closer and holds his hand. “Welcome back.”

“How long?”

“You’ve been out for two days dear.” Her voice is gentle and somehow there is a hint of sadness that Steve doesn’t like.

He tries to sit up and she fluffs his pillow for him, grateful she doesn’t stop him.

When he looks around, he realizes that it’s only Peggy.

“Where’s Bucky?” He asks, afraid of the answer for some reason.

The face of him was the last thing Steve saw before passing out. He finds himself yearning for that pretty face even if he knows, no he’s sure, that it’ll be an angry face.

“Who?” Peggy asks, frowning.

He gulps and tries his best not to take out the tubes in his nose. “Bucky, the detective.”

“Oh, the hot-blooded one?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah. The one who saved me.”

She gives him a tender look then shrugs. “I don’t know. Haven’t seen him. He’s probably around.”

“Oh." Somehow he feels a pang of hurt.

“Now, why would you go and ruin my plans like that Steve?”

He shakes his head, confused. “I don’t know what-“

“Gone was the plan for me to wait for two days. As soon as I heard about you being admitted, I had to come see you.” She pats his hand. “I thought I’d lost you dear.”

He smiles sadly and brings his uninjured hand to hold hers. “I’m sorry.”

Then he thinks about what she just said. “Wait, how did you hear about me if it's just the doctor who knows about you being awake...”

“None of that now, dear. Must rest.”

He tries to roll his eyes, but his eyelids are heavy. “I’ve been resting for two days apparently.”

She winks his way when she reaches the door. “You were unconscious. And that’s vastly different.”

Steve is left alone and he decides to not turn his head away from the door in case Bucky comes in any minute.

 

~~~

 

He doesn’t show up.

Only later that Clint and Nat show up. As soon as he sees Steve, he wipes his nose and eyes and points at him angrily.

“I swear to God, Steve!”

Steve is about to say sorry but just tries to hold it together. The tears are brimming his eyes as he sees his friend approaching him. He opens his arms and hugs him for few minutes long.

“Please Steve,” Nat starts. “If you go down, take him with you. Can’t handle this big baby.”

Clint sniffles, pulls away and accepts the tissues offered by Nat.

They spend the day with Steve.

It turns out Clint hasn't seen Bucky either.

A nurse comes inside and checks his vitals. Steve waits until she leaves to ask them what he’s been wanting to ask.

“How did you guys know? About me?”

“Bucky called me,” Clint starts as he sits back on the chair next to Steve’s bed. Nat comes over and perches herself on the arm of the chair. Steve does notice their body language is different.

Could they have gotten together?

“He did?”

Clint coughs a bit and then says, “He said you had an asthma attack. Severe one. And that he was gonna take care of Howard while you’re here.”

Steve realizes in that moment that he doesn’t have Bucky’s phone number. _How ridiculous is that?_

They were so attached at the hip that it didn’t cross his mind to swap numbers.

"Do you have his number?"

Clint looks surprised but doesn't ask Steve. "Uh...no. It said private number."

"He's paranoid I guess," Nat says, rolling her eyes.

“Poor Howard,” Clint says and snickers.

"Howard, actually,” Steve clears his throat and goes to sit up. “He likes Bucky. Very much.”

Then he takes a deep breath and asks, “So you guys don’t know what happened later? How he got me here?”

Nat shrugs and Clint shakes his head before asking, “Didn’t you talk to him?”

Steve looks down at the white bedsheets. “No. Haven’t seen him since I've woken up this morning.”

When he doesn’t get a remark, he looks up. “Did you? I mean…”

The two of them smirk at him and he blushes. “It’s not what you think. I just…the guy saved my life. Wanna thank him,” he says determinedly.

His heart is beating faster. He feels his ears ringing and his face must be red…

_Damn it!_

“You will, don’t worry. I mean...You do live together.”

Steve is sure now that Bucky didn’t tell them about the room. The ventilation.

He’s positive it’s Hydra now.

Maybe it’s better to keep his friends in the dark. It’s for their own good.

He gives them a fake smile. “So, tell me about you guys. How’s it going?”

 

~~~

 

_Steve, stay with me. Just for a little longer._

Steve wakes up with a jolt.

He tries to sit up quick and winces when he supports himself on his broken wrist. The damned cast is still on.

Bucky's pleading voice from that night is still ringing in his ears.

He looks around but there isn’t anyone.

Closing his eyes again, he swears that he had heard the door click shut.

Looking at his right, he finds the buzzer for the nurse. He presses it and waits. He has a feeling that he wasn’t dreaming.

The nurse comes in seconds later. She has a worried look on her face.

“Is everything alright Mr. Rogers?” She asks as she makes her way to check his vital signs.

He stops her with a wave of her hand. “No, no. I mean, yeah. I’m fine. Just wanted to ask…”

“Yes?”

“Did someone just visit me? I mean…or was it you...”

“Well, there’s a guard outside that makes sure no one goes in unless he checks in with us.”

Steve nods. “Okay. Was there anyone…like few minutes ago?”

She seems to ponder the question but then shakes her head. “No. Last people who were here were your friends. Mr. Barton and Miss Romanoff.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She fixes the bedsheets and smiles kindly at him. “Maybe you were just dreaming.”

He gives her half a smile and then looks away. “Yeah. Maybe.”

His stupid heart once again embarrasses him.

 

~~~

 

Steve is surprised the next day of the person who decided to stop by.

Detective Wilson comes inside with two cups of coffee and two muffins.

“Hey, Steve. You got us worried,” he says in a booming voice.

Steve puts away the book Peggy gave him earlier this morning to pass the time, and he straightens up in the bed.

He breaks into a smile as his eyes look behind Sam. Waiting.

No sign of the other detective.

“Where’s Bucky?” he asks breathlessly.

Sam raises a brow and Steve blushes.

“He’s not with me,” Sam replies and hands one of the muffins to Steve. “They’re really delicious.”

“Thanks,” Steve says in a small voice.

Sam pulls the chair next to him and puts Steve’s coffee cup on the table. His eyes roam over Steve and then asks, “How are you feeling?”

Steve nods. “Good. I’m dying to leave. Can’t wait to go home. And back to my classes.”

Sam snickers. “Oh, there’s no going back home.”

Steve freezes.

Sighing, Sam sits back. “Come on, Steve. You’re a smart guy. What happened to you was no accident.”

Steve gulps and looks directly at Sam. “I had a feeling. Hydra, right?”

Sam nods. “That’s their work. They waited for the opportune moment. A vulnerable time for you.”

When Steve looks confusedly at him, Sam elaborates.

“Using the ventilation system as their way of getting to you and only you. While asleep. Scumbags.”

Steve runs his hand through his sticky hair.

_Wow. I need a shower._

“They know you. Your weakness. They did their homework.”

Steve shakes his head. “That’s not gonna stop me from going back home. And I’ll tell Bucky when he comes that he can forget it.”

Sam furrows his brows and sits up straight, elbows on knees as he looks seriously at Steve. “Bucky isn’t coming back.”

Steve’s heart falls and he feels his breath leaves him for a second, even though the tubes are still in his nose. “Wha…What?”

Sam purses his lips and puts his own cup on the table. “He took himself off the case. In a way. Partially.”

He can't believe what he's hearing. “I…I don’t understand.”

“He thought it’s for the best.”

Steve doesn’t know how he feels about this. How to respond. All he knows for sure is that Bucky can’t give up.

“He can’t do that. Not now.”

Sam rubs his hands together. “Oh, he’s gonna help, since he's the only one who’s an expert when it comes to Hydra. It’s just…” and Sam looks away and clears his throat. “He no longer wants to be your security.”

And it’s like cold water dropped on his head.

Steve feels himself getting upset. Angry. Pissed.

_How could he?_

Then realization hit him.

_No._

“It wasn’t his fault,” Steve remarks.

“Steve-“

“No, it wasn’t his fault,” he repeats heatedly. “He can’t think that.”

Sam gets up and scratches his forehead. “This is why I took matters into my own hands. I’ll be your security-“

“You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m not a baby! It’s like changing babysitters around here.”

Sam surprises him by chuckling. “He said you’d say that.”

Steve deflates and it tugs at his heart how well Bucky knows him at this point.

But apparently he doesn’t know Bucky.

How could he leave him like that?

He feels hurt. Betrayed. Abandoned.

“I won’t accept your offer of me not going back home. If this goes against Bucky’s wishes, then he should come here and say it to my face,” Steve says hotly, feeling his chest hurt. It's a poor attempt to voice his wish of seeing him again.

His hand reaches and secures the tubes as he inhales deeply.

_Fuck you, Bucky!_

Sam walks up to the table and hands Steve his cup of coffee. It’s warm by now and he nods at Steve.

“I agree.”

“Wait, what?”

“Unlike Barnes, I think you should be kept updated. I’m not gonna hide anything from you. They’re after you. And I know you want to cooperate. That’s what I like about you Steve Rogers. So, I’m willing to let you help.”

“I don’t understand…Do you mean…”

“They’re not gonna stop before they get you Steve. So…”

Steve narrows his eyes at him. “You want me to be bait?”

Sam tilts his head aside as he smiles at him. “No.”

“You lost me.”

Sam takes a sip from his coffee. “I wanna honor your wish of living your life and not having a new identity. But at the same time, we are responsible for your safety."

"What are you exactly saying Sam?"

"Let’s just say that I’ll give you more freedom than Barnes. In other words, I won’t breathe down your neck every second of the day.”

Steve furrows his brows as he contemplates this offer.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Steve,” Sam says as he pats his shoulder and goes to leave.

Before he leaves, Steve stops him.

“Who’s Monty?”

He’s been wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Sam frowns, holding the door handle. “Who?”

“Monty. A detective or something.”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know anyone with that name.”

He seems to be telling the truth. So, Steve nods and Sam leaves.

He rests his head back on the pillow.

He wasn't expecting this to happen. For Bucky to just leave like that. Not even stopping by. Steve needs to thank him.

Steve closes his eyes and all he sees is the last time he saw Bucky. His panicked face telling him to hold on.

He feels his heart ache with the realization of Bucky walking away from the case. From him. Without saying goodbye.

His eyes brim with tears.

"Damn it, Bucky!" he whispers in the room.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.

 

"So, I'm gonna head out, Steve. Want something before I leave?" Sam asks loudly from the living room.

Steve comes out from the small kitchen having just dropped the Chinese containers he had with the detective.

"I'm good. Thanks-Oh, wait. I got something for Peggy."

And he runs to the small bedroom in this new apartment, Howard scurrying right behind him and jumping on his shoulder. He gathers the three books she lent him through Sam. He takes them and goes back out only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees Sam looking at his sketchbook.

His open sketchbook.

He left it open on the kitchen counter long before Sam got here tonight.

"Interesting stuff you got here, Steve," he comments casually.

Steve doesn't think he can look him in the eye anymore. It's not because of his sketching abilities. No. He knows he's excellent. It's what he's been sketching these past three weeks.

"Uh..."

"You're really good, Steve."

Luckily, Howard jumps from Steve's shoulder to the counter and seats himself on the sketchbook, meowing at Sam. He doesn't like the detective at all.

Sam raises his hands in surrender and then fortunately doesn't say anything to Steve about it.

"What are these?" He takes the books from Steve's shaky hands.

"Um..." He looks away as he speaks to him. "She gave them to me before I left the hospital."

And then because he's desperate, he changes the subject. "How's she by the way? How's the safe-house she's at?"

Sam smirks. "Are you trying to know her location?"

 _Trying to make you not talk about what you saw_ , Steve screams inside.

"No, I just-"

"Kidding," Sam says, chuckling, and he moves to the door of the small apartment. "She's fine. And don't worry Steve. It's not gonna be forever. We're close to getting them." He holds Steve's shoulder for few seconds in reassurance before leaving.

Steve sighs loudly, burying his face in his trembling hands.

_Meow._

He looks down and finds Howard literally sitting on his foot.

"No, Howard. Nothing will make this better. Oh God..." He groans loudly in the empty place.

 

It’s been three weeks since he’s left the hospital.

He’s now residing in a small apartment near campus with Sam.

True to his word, Sam is giving him his space. Sometimes he doesn’t even sleep there. He leaves Steve to go to his family but he’s there every morning to take Steve to wherever. Right now, it's only classes.

Howard keeps him company. Peggy decided that Steve should take care of him for the time being.

Steve’s heart kinda broke when Sam brought him at the hospital instead of Bucky. It’s pretty clear that Bucky doesn’t want anything to do with him.

Steve has decided to nurse his wounds by busying himself with school.

Luckily, the cast is no longer on his wrist. And that’s the only good news he had since waking up in the hospital.

Classes are going great.

He likes how Sam is working around him. How he's updating him on the case in a general manner. He only sees him before dropping him to class and after. No hovering, no teasing, no bickering and certainly no arguing.

But he misses that. With Bucky.

 

After resigning to his humiliation, Steve sighs as he locks the door after Sam and picks up Howard, heading for the kitchen to take his sketchbook. Then he goes to sit on the small humble couch.

Steve opens it, and finds the partially finished drawing of a face. He’s been finding himself these days sketching it non stop.

In fact that's why he felt humiliated that Sam saw it.

It's Bucky's face. Bucky's body. Bucky's hands and arms. Bucky's posture. Bucky lazily sitting on the couch. Bucky with Howard on his shoulder.

It's all Bucky. All the papers are of Bucky.

He explains to himself that its frustration. Anger that is driving him to do that. But deep down, he’s scared of his actions and what they mean.

_Meow._

Howard jumps on his shoulder and drops on the sketchbook.

“Howard. Come on! I’m working.”

Then the kitten licks the sketch.

“No! What are you doing?”

_Meow._

The little paws scratches the papers, not damaging them but making sounds.

"You miss him too?" Steve asks Howard softly.

The kitten meows and Steve sighs. Every paper has that face.

No word. Nothing. It's like whatever they had meant nothing.

_But what did we have really? Nothing!  
_

He feels really upset and suddenly, he rips the papers from the book. One after the other. He crumbles them and throws them on the floor. Howard runs after one and Steve just sits there, breathing heavily.

Howard moves around, pawing at each one. Steve looks at the many sketches of the detective. 

He runs his hand through his hair. "God...what the hell is wrong with me?" 

_Meow._

He deflates and smiles at the kitten. Getting up, he starts collecting the damaged papers. Howard jumps on his shoulder when Steve goes back to sit. He evens out the crumbled papers and then puts them back inside the sketchbook carefully.

He sleeps that night with it under his pillow and Howard next to him. 

 

~~~

 

"Why the long face?"

Steve circles his coffee cup with his bony finger, his chin resting on the counter. His eyes look up at Clint as he brews coffee for a student.

"Nothing."

"He misses his bickering partner," Nat's comment reaches him.

He sits straight up and narrows his eyes at her. "No. I don't."

"Who?" Clint asks as he hands the student his cup.

"Bucky," Nat answers nonchalantly.

"Naah, he doesn't," Clint said, chuckling. But when Steve looks his way, his eyes widen. "Oh my God, Nat. I think you're on to something."

"Excuse me!" Steve tries not to blush but obviously fails since he feels his cheeks heat up. Then he notices Nat taking off an apron. "Since when do you work here?"

"Don't change the subject, Rogers." She smirks as she puts her arm on Clint's shoulder.

His friend, the traitor, narrows his eyes at him. He asks, "How do you notice things like that, Nat?"

"I'm very observant," she says before moving away from him. "Unlike some people who don't even see something even if it's right under their noses."

With that, she storms to the back of the cafe.

Steve just notices it.

 _Oh_... _Shit!_

The girl his friend is in love with is possibly in love with him too. It's not unrequited like Clint thinks.

His friend, of course, is dense.

Clint laughs slightly and points behind his back. "I don't know what her problem is."

"Clint, I think you-"

"Excuse me, you're Steve Rogers?" A voice next to him says.

He turns to his left and finds a nice-looking young, yet disheveled student. His bag is ripped and his clothes has spots of...paint?

"No," Clint says at the same time that Steve says "Yes."

The guy looks conflicted and Steve stares daggers at Clint.

He wins and Clint leaves them be.

"Sorry. Yeah, I'm Steve."

"Oh my God," the guy breathes and sits next to him. He extends his hand and Steve takes it. "I'm a huge fan of yours. Name's Brad."

"Fan?" Steve sits straight now, coffee forgotten.

The cafe is loud so the guy leans over. "I saw your work in Miss Sharon's class. Breathtaking!"

"Oh," Steve mutters and flushes.

"Brilliant, man!"

Steve smiles then narrows his eyes at him. "I'm sorry but I've never seen you in class."

"You won't 'cause I'm an undergrad and I take her morning classes. Our class was in the studio with her once and I asked her about some pieces left there and she said they're yours. She told me all about you." Then the guy wiggles his brows at him. "I think she likes you."

Steve feels like he could die out of embarrassment. "Nn-no. She doesn't. She's just generous with her compliments."

"You want something to order, pal?" Clint asks loudly as he comes back to them.

The guy looks between them and then shrugs. "Nah. Just thought I'd say hi to the next Picasso."

Steve shakes his head, chuckling.

The guy smiles his way before he leaves. After Steve watches him leave, he turns back and sees Clint looking disgusted.

"Laaaaaaaaame," Clint comments very loudly.

Nat comes from behind, ready to head home but not before throwing over her shoulder. "At least he goes for what he wants."

Steve and Clint watch her leave.

"You know, Steve, she's been cranky for a while."

Steve rests his forehead on the counter, groaning.

 

~~~

 

Three days later, Sam escorts him to his class.

"Just wanna let you know that I'm staying up late in this studio today," Steve says to Sam as he drops his bag on the chair.

"That's cool. Like, what time do you think you'll finish?"

Steve shrugs as he pulls out his tools. "Around 11. Is that good? I mean, okay for you?"

Sam chuckles and pats his shoulder. "I'm here for you. I'll probably be around on campus much earlier."

"You're welcome to come here and observe," Steve adds with a wide smile.

"Okay. I'll try to be interested." Sam says while walking backwards to head out.

Steve shakes his head at him and snickers when Sam almost bumps into someone and apologizes profusely.

 

~~~

 

It's around 10:00 p.m. and the studio is empty except for Steve.

There's a janitor down the hall who's cleaning up and Steve can hear him singing along to a Beyonce song.

He's finishing a new painting he's working on.

It's of a fire-escape. And a guy is standing on it, smoking. It's actually the shirtless back of the guy. The side of the face isn't painted yet.

Deep down Steve knows who it is, but doesn't want to confront it yet.

"So this is how the magic happens," a voice says from behind.

Steve whirls around and sees the student from the cafe.

"Oh, hi Brad."

Brad waves his hand awkwardly and it seems that he's blushing. "Hey, Steve."

Steve puts his paint brush aside. "What are you doing here? Isn't it late for you?"

The guy scratches his head as his eyes roam around the place. "I came running back 'cause I forgot my sketchbook." And he squeals when he sees it on a shelf.

He puts it in his bag and then smiles at Steve who gives him a thumbs up.

"Wow. I like what you're working on over there. What is it?" Brad asks as he walks up to Steve.

Steve chuckles nervously. "I'd rather not say. It's uh...not finished yet...and kinda personal."

"Hmm. Well, okay. I'll let you be then."

Steve breathes easy as he watches him leave. When he goes back to paint, he feels him coming back.

He turns around and finds Brad really close. He's awkwardly looking between the painting and the door.

"Hey, uh...do you know any open cafe at this hour? Near campus of course."

Steve hopes that this isn't him trying to indirectly ask Steve out.

 _I'm so not ready_ , he thinks.

But he clears his throat and picks up a different paint brush. He breaks out into a genuine smile because the guy's been nice. Brad is probably being sincere.

_I'm so full of myself. The guy's probably not interested at all!  
_

Steve tilts his head, thinking. "Oh, well, I'm not sure about the one on campus, but there's the one-"

"Steve! What the hell?" A voice calls out from far away.

Steve looks to the door and can't believe his eyes. He gasps softly at the guy who interrupted him.

He breathes, "Bucky?"

The detective rolls his eyes and huffs, "What are you still doing here? Did you forget what's tonight?"

"Wha..." He wants to speak but he can't. The shock of seeing Bucky after all these weeks overwhelms him. 

Steve drinks the sight of him.

He's lazily leaning on the door frame. A hand in his pocket and another one running through his hair. It seems longer. He has a five o'clock shadow. He looks disheveled as usual but Steve feels that he looks different. 

Oh, he's not wearing a suit. Just dark jeans and a worn out blue t-shirt that showcases his arms. Buff arms.

Then Bucky moves. _Oh no._

He strides inside and smiles. It's strange to see him smile like that. Genuinely. 

"It's our date night. God..." Bucky shakes his head fondly at him.

Steve's heart almost stops. _Date night?_

He braces himself when he notices that Bucky isn't stopping. He's on to something. But what? And why?

_What the hell is he..._

And then he stands in front of him, hand reaching out and Steve doesn't even have the time to move back.

Bucky puts his hand on the back of Steve's neck and leans, pulling him closer to him. To Steve's disbelief and bewilderment, Bucky leans and plants a kiss on his lips. 

A soft, gentle kiss.

Steve feels the warm lips on his and doesn't believe if it's happening for real or that he's dreaming.

_Maybe I slept at the studio._

Out of sheer shock, he doesn't kiss back or do anything for that matter. He only closes his eyes.

The kiss is only for seconds. Sweet, magical seconds.

As soon as Bucky pulls back, Steve looks at him and sees those gray-blue eyes staring at him.

"Did you forget about me?" Bucky whispers softly.

Steve feels the ground drops from under him. The question comes out in total sincerity. _Or is this part of whatever game this is?  
_

But Steve just lets out a soft exhale and answers with total honesty. "Not for a moment."

Bucky nods once. His eyes travel back to Steve's lips and leans a bit as if wanting to kiss again but holds back last second.

He straightens up and grabs Steve's stuff. "Come on. You know our tradition."

"Wait, Bucky. What-"

Bucky zips up all of Steve's stuff and doesn't even acknowledge Brad. "Let's go. Pizza is getting cold."

Then Steve feels an arm sneak around his waist and pulls him to his chest. "And I'm getting cold too."

Steve is too stunned to comprehend what's going on. All he knows is that his heart is hammering in his chest while being steered out of the studio. He doesn't know what happened to Brad or his painting.

All he knows, all he feels is the warmth of the body next to him.

Bucky has him tucked to his side, arm over his small shoulders as he keeps Steve to his side all the way out to the parking lot.

He feels warm lips on his temple. "Put your arm around my waist. Quick."

And that's when it hits him.

Bucky is back.

And he's acting like nothing's happened. Like he didn't abandon Steve at the hospital. With no goodbyes. No contact.

_Nothing!_

So when they're near what he supposes is Bucky's car, Steve shoves him away.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Steve shouts.

Bucky purses his lips and his eyes are roaming around. "Keep your voice down."

"You...you," Steve's voice is wavering and he tries not to tremble. He points a finger at Bucky. "You had no right. No right!"

Bucky just sighs loudly and opens the door for Steve. "Just get inside."

"No! You can't just disappear and come back just like...like..."

"Steve..."

"And you certainly had no right to just kiss me. Just like that!"

"For God's sake, just get in! I'll explain everything later."

Steve shakes his head at him and snatches his bag right back from Bucky's hands. He turns around but Bucky grabs his arm and forces him to turn back.

He's ready to lash out when Bucky invades his space, hands framing his face gently.

Steve stills. His eyes are roaming Bucky's face. Searching. Questioning.

Bucky leans a bit closer.

Steve's heart is beating fast. Thinking Bucky's going to kiss him again, Steve licks his lips unconsciously.

Bucky's eyes are drawn there for seconds before looking over his shoulder. "I have a valid reason. So, get in."

His answer isn't convincing and Bucky senses it. So, he hisses desperately, "Please, Steve. I beg you. Just get in the fuckin' car."

Steve lets out a long breath and moves Bucky's hands from his face.

"We're not done here," he says through gritted teeth before passing Bucky and getting in the car.

_Bucky better damn well has a good explanation for all of this!_

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

The tension in the car can be cut with a knife.

Steve has his eyes glued to the window, arms folded over his chest.

Bucky’s presence is palpable and Steve can’t take it anymore.

“So, what’s your _valid_ reason?” Steve asks with a clipped tone of voice.

“For what?” Bucky responds coolly.

Steve whips his head around. “Oh no, you’re not gonna do that. You’re not gonna evade the question.”

“I’m honestly not evading,” Bucky states.

Steve pauses when he sees his surroundings. “Wait, where are you going?”

Bucky stops at a red light and then turns to look at him. “To a safehouse.”

Steve has had enough of this. He’s really close to clawing Bucky’s eyes out. “I swear to God, Bucky Barnes…Get me to the safehouse Sam put me in or else.”

“Or else what?” Bucky raises his brow in challenge.

They both end up staring at each other and Steve is going to combust but all that comes out is, “If you don’t get me home, I will never forgive you Bucky. _Never_.”

Bucky stares back at him and Steve goes back to staring out the window. He can still feel the burning gaze of his eyes.

“Fuck,” Bucky says under his breath.

Then the car makes a U-turn and they’re heading to his place. If he weren’t upset by this whole thing, of Bucky coming back out of nowhere, he would’ve smiled gleefully at winning the argument.

“Happy, Steve?”

Steve huffs. “Don’t try to change the subject. I’m gonna ask again. What was your valid reason?”

Bucky exhales loudly. “That fucker who was talking to you...”

Steve turns to look at him. “You mean Brad?”

“Yeah. And what kind of name is Brad?” Bucky looks so disgusted.

A very normal and popular name, Steve almost says. But then there are more important things at the moment. “What about him?”

“I think he’s Hydra.”

Steve lets out a dry laugh. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“He is.”

“For God’s sake, he’s an undergrad who just wants to learn more about painting.”

Bucky makes a swift turn and Steve holds on to the side of the door. “Jesus! Slow down.”

“You’re the one who wanted to go _home_.”

“And what do you mean you _think_ he’s Hydra? Do you have proof?”

“I’m…”

“Bucky?” Steve asks through gritted teeth.

“I’m 99% sure he’s Hydra.”

The building where he’s residing appears before them but Steve is still hung up on Bucky’s words.

“Oh my God. He’s a student. He goes to school here.”

“My gut is telling me he’s Hydra. First, he shows up three days ago in Clint’s café-“

“It’s the only cafe on campus!”

“And flirts with you-“

“He wasn’t flirting.”

“And he waited until you were alone to get you. Because our dear Sam is nowhere to be seen. _The idiot!_ Where the hell is he? How could he leave you like that? On campus. Alone!”

Steve can’t comprehend Bucky’s words. He's speaking very fast and Steve feels that there's something missing. “Wait, back up here.”

The car stops at the entrance but Bucky makes no intention of getting out, nor is Steve.

“How did you know Brad met me at the café?” Steve asks, eyes narrowing Bucky’s way.

Bucky looks away and that’s answer enough for Steve.

“You were spying on me?” Steve asks in disbelief. Sam told Steve that Bucky didn't want to be involved with the protection of Steve. 

Running his hand through his wild, greasy hair, Bucky huffs.

Steve can’t take it anymore and gets out of the car, pulling his backpack with him. He closes the door loudly. He marches to the building and he can hear Bucky getting out too.

“Steve, wait.”

But Steve doesn’t and he continues to ignore the detective and takes the elevators. He makes sure he hits the 'close' button before Bucky.

And he succeeds.

It’s only then that Steve lets his shoulders sag and lets out a shuddering breath. He holds the area between his eyes and tries not to cry. Seeing Bucky again, feeling those lips and running around from a safehouse to another and almost living like a fugitive takes its toll on him.

“I’m so tired,” he whispers in the empty humming elevator.

He reaches the sixth floor and gets out. He turns right only to stop when he sees a breathless Bucky. He’s holding on to his side as he gasps for breath. His other hand is raised in a placating gesture. 

The stairs in this building are the worst. But Steve doesn't feel bad for him.

Steve just inhales deeply and then marches to the apartment door. He makes sure he doesn’t make eye-contact with Bucky.

“Listen Steve,” Bucky starts before he coughs.

Steve pulls out the keys Sam gave him this morning. He’d been changing them every two days and Steve suddenly wants to break them and throw them away.

Instead, he says in a sarcastic tone, “Wow, Bucky. Didn't know you’re a psychic. Knowing the direction to the place, and my apartment number and all.”

“It’s not…”

Steve opens the door and doesn’t bother with waiting for him. He leaves the door open and heads to drop his backpack on the couch. He scratches his temple, trying to be patient in order to confront the guy.

He hears the door close and Bucky shuffling inside, his breath evening out.

“That Brad guy came outta nowhere,” Bucky starts again.

Steve shakes his head. He doesn’t care about Brad or any of that.

With Steve’s back still to him, Bucky continues, “He has no background or any records. I don’t-“

“Why didn’t you visit me at the hospital?” Steve asks, interrupting him.

It’s quiet. It goes on for few more seconds before Steve takes a deep breath and turns around to face him.

Bucky is standing there, looking surprised. Shocked even.

Steve swipes away the annoying hair strands from his face, his hands still holding the keys. The metal is digging into his flesh. 

“I…” Bucky stumbles on words, eyes still looking Steve’s way.

“Why did you leave?” Steve finally asks him. And because he’s desperate and pathetic, he adds, “Why did you leave me?”

And he watches as Bucky’s facial expressions change from shock to hurt to pain. His eyes suddenly pleading. There’s this raw, naked look in them that Steve has never seen before.

_Meow._

Howard comes out of nowhere and is crawling up Bucky’s leg.

Bucky's face softens a bit when he lifts up the kitten. “Hey, buddy.”

Steve waits but Bucky doesn’t look up. He’s scratching Howard’s neck and the kitten meows happily, burrowing itself under Bucky’s hand.

“I had to," Bucky answers him softly. Then he sighs in frustration. "You won’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me. I really want to understand, Bucky.” There is pleading in his voice but Steve isn’t embarrassed by it. He wants an answer.

The knocking on the door interrupts them.

Steve moves to get it but Bucky blocks him. “No.”

There is this impulse of wanting to push Bucky and shove him aside but Steve restrains himself. “It’s Sam. He has a specific knock.”

Bucky grimaces then huffs. “A knock? God, it’s like he doesn’t listen.”

Steve frowns as he goes to unlock the door. Bucky perches Howard on his shoulder. “Check first,” he mouths.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Who is it?”

The musical knock comes again. Three then two then three.

Steve raises his brow at Bucky and then turns, unlocks the door and opens it.

It isn’t Sam.

It's not Sam's kind face and gentle smile. 

It's that ugly, scarred face with the gray haunting eyes.

Steve's breath catches as the face smirks.

“Hello Steve Rogers. It's _so_ good to finally see you. Again.”

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

 

Steve is trying his best not to panic as he backs away slowly from the ugly face of…

“Rumlow,” Bucky says disbelievingly from behind him.

Rumlow steps inside and Steve feels Bucky’s hand yanking him from behind, pulling him back. He steps in front of Steve, shielding him.

But Steve’s not going to let him.

He shuffles and steps beside Bucky. Steve makes his hands into fists when Bucky put his arm out, preventing Steve from moving further. The criminal isn’t even noticing as his scary eyes are directed at Bucky.

“Well, well, well. You know I didn’t believe it when Tony told me about you James.”

Steve frowns as he looks at Bucky’s side face. _James?_ _Was that his undercover name?_

Bucky doesn’t say anything and Rumlow is thankfully unarmed.

Yet.

“I said,” and he starts waving his hands around. “Tony…there’s no way James is alive and then here you are...”

“Here I am Brock,” Bucky confirms.

“You look like a homeless person. I liked you back when you looked suave and shit.”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky starts as he backs away, making sure Steve moves back with him. “I like this style more.”

“Where’s Sam?” Steve asks determinedly stepping from behind Bucky’s arm.

Rumlow holds his temples and visibly shakes as he angrily stresses, “This is why I’m determined to _fuckin’_ kill you. You get in people’s business, Rogers.”

“Answer his question!” Bucky demands.

Steve is a bit comforted by the fact that Bucky is with him on this. He didn’t frown at him. Actually, Bucky never broke eye-contact with Rumlow at all.

The angry criminal pauses and then smiles as he lift his head up proudly. “Don’t know. Ask Tony.”

Steve and Bucky look at each other slowly and then they hear someone coming from behind Rumlow to stand next to him.

“Brad?” Steve asks in disbelief.

His hair is more disheveled than when he saw him earlier. A knife is in his hand as he plays with it. There’s a mad look on his face. “Actually, name’s Tony. God…do you have _any idea_ how boring it was to get to know you?”

Rumlow laughs and Steve just can’t believe it’s the same innocent looking kid who was in the studio with him earlier.

_Bucky was right._

“What did you do to Sam?” Bucky asks through gritted teeth.

Brad-actually, Tony-looks at Rumlow and nudges him with his elbow. “Hey, did you know that some people actually go to college to study art?”

And then he doubles over, laughing.

“Waste of time and money Rogers,” Rumlow comments lazily.

Tony wipes tears from his eyes and then suddenly quiets down as he takes a step toward Steve. Bucky steps closer to Steve, edging him back.

“I knocked that guy off. _Sam_ ,” Tony mutters with a disgusted face. “He’s in a bathroom somewhere near that studio of yours, Steve. That janitor had his headphones blasting. It was the cherry on top. What was the song?” He puts the knife to his own lips in deep thought. “I think it was Beyonce. Something about formation...”

Steve is still shocked to his core at the guy speaking in front of him. It’s like watching two people in one. He can’t feel himself breathe at the crazy look in Tony’s eyes. And then his heart breaks as he thinks of Sam. Lying somewhere in a bathroom.

“He’s been tailing your guy. That’s how we knew the knock…” Rumlow looks disgusted. “Who uses a secret knock?”

“So dumb,” Tony adds, shaking his head.

"Is he dead?" Bucky asks and Steve figures he's either stalling or genuinely asking.

Tony huffs, "No. Boss here told me not to."

"For the last time dumbass, we don't want more attention to us," Rumlow says. Then he turns to them, "Now, on to business.” He growls as he pulls a gun out, aiming at Steve.

Bucky draws his gun at the same moment and shoves Steve behind him. Steve doesn't protest, still surprised at Bucky’s swift move and…

_Where did he hide his gun?_

“Awwww, so cute!” Tony squeals, jumping up and down, clapping his hands together.

Once again, Steve is shocked by his actions. He also can’t comprehend that this is real. That this is happening. It’s not a movie.

He feels his hands gripping Bucky’s t-shirt as he’s holding on to him behind his broad back.

“Move, James. I don’t have all day. That little fucker must die.”

“Over my dead body, Brock,” Bucky states determinedly.

“Okay,” Rumlow says carelessly as he cocks his gun, aiming at Bucky.

“No!” Steve says through gritted teeth and shoves Bucky aside. He can't let him die. Not a chance. “You don’t have to do this Rumlow. I’ll come willingly.”

The two criminals are quiet for seconds and then burst out laughing. Rumlow shakes his head at him. “Oh, I can’t wait to kill you. Twice for being so nosy.”

It happens in seconds, Howard jumps out of nowhere and on Rumlow’s face. Scratching it and clutching it between its little paws. Bucky pushes Steve back again and out of his way and suddenly kicks Tony in the groin who’d been busy watching the kitten in fascination. Bucky holds Tony up against him, arm around his neck, the other hand holding a gun against his temple. Bucky's using Tony to shield himself and Steve.

Rumlow drops his gun and snatches Howard from his face throwing him somewhere.

“Howard!” Steve yells and only hears the pained meowing. He goes to run after the kitten.

“Steve, don’t!” Bucky shouts.

He stops as he sees Rumlow aiming his gun at him again. It’s too late. He’s in the clear.

“First, you burn my face, James and now your boyfriend’s demon cat cuts it…you’re paying for this!”

Bucky cocks his gun up against Tony’s head. His arm holding the demented criminal to him. Bucky’s breathing is hard as he threatens. “If you shoot, I’ll shoot him. I will gladly do it Rumlow so let’s—“

Tony drops dead after Rumlow shoots him three times in the chest. Steve freezes as he watches the young guy drop like a piece of meat.

_Dear God..._

He's never witnessed a killing before.

Bucky’s plan didn’t work and Steve gulps as they both retreat for Rumlow takes two steps toward them.

“You think I needed that fucker! It’s time to end this once and for all.”

Bucky raises his gun again and his other arm is half covering Steve. _When did he move to my side?_

"Not if I kill you first Rumlow," Bucky says. He looks frustrated and Steve is planning to speak, to try, when…

“You see…Hydra will always live, James. Hydra will have the world at its feet. Hail Hydra. Hail-"

And all of a sudden, Rumlow drops on the floor. Neither of them fired their guns.

They both look up and see a bloody-faced Sam standing over him. He’s breathless as he looks down at him. “Man…shut the fuck up!”

“Sam!” Both Bucky and Steve shout in relief at the same time.

“Sorry I’m late.” He slowly nudges the passed out Rumlow with his foot. “They can’t even let a guy take a leak in peace.”

“Is he dead?” Steve asks without moving from his place.

“I’m fuckin’ killing him!” Bucky growls as he takes two steps and aims at Rumlow’s skull.

Steve holds his breath. This is the first time he’s scared of Bucky and for Bucky. He’s standing over the guy, body shaking and breathing shallow.

Even if he wants to stop him, Steve can’t. He’s still trying to process what's happened and almost happened to them both.

Luckily, Sam is there. He holds Bucky’s arm.

“No, Barnes. We need him alive. Taking him in custody is taking down Hydra. Come on, give me the gun.”

Steve finally finds his voice. To his surprise, it comes out very calm. “Bucky, don’t.”

And it’s like a veil has lifted off Bucky’s eyes. He’s shaking as Sam disarms him. Bucky steps away and huffs twice before turning around and staring Steve’s way.

Steve breathes heavily and watches as Bucky marches toward him. He holds Steve’s shoulders tightly, squeezing hard. “You okay? Are you hurt? Is your breathing good?”

And he runs his hands over Steve’s chest. Steve’s face is turning red and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s angry or embarrassed.

“I’m fine, Bucky.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks as he frames Steve’s face in his shaky hands.

And that jars him. How Bucky is showing something. He's scared and worried about him. He cares for him.

Steve nods twice before looking into those gray-blue eyes. All the night’s excitement, fear and horror come crashing down and he pulls Bucky’s face toward him and touches their foreheads together. “I’m safe. I’m safe, Bucky.” Then he lets out a nervous chuckle before adding softly, “I’m with you.”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. He smiles gently. “Yeah.”

“Uh…hate to ruin the moment but who shot this one?” Sam’s voice interrupts the bubble they were in.

They pull apart and Bucky goes to tell him what happened.

Steve breaks from his haze and realizes something.

“Howard!”

He finds him in the middle of the hallway to his bedroom, licking its paws. Steve almost cries at the sight. He goes down on his knees and shakily takes him in his arms. He scratches his neck and kisses his face.

“Hey, buddy. It’s okay. We’re safe.”

“Oh God, is he okay?” Bucky asks, coming to stand behind him.

Steve turns around and lets Bucky look at Howard. The kitten burrows itself under Steve’s hands. “I think he’s fine.”

Sam is on the phone and looking out the window. Probably calling for backup.

“We’re taking him to the vet,” Bucky says softly. His hand that is smoothing the kitten’s neck touches Steve’s. Not accidentally.

It’s a soft touch.

Steve looks up and finds Bucky looking at him. With openness. He feels that they’re the only ones there. And Steve thinks this is more intimate than that kiss. That one, as much as it hurts, was for pretenses.

This one is not. This one is his _. For him._

And it’s only in Steve’s life that everything gets taken away from him.

It happens in seconds.

A loud shout reaches them. “No!”

It's Sam. It's a warning.

Two loud shots sound off.

But before Steve turns to see what’s happened, Bucky has already seen what's going on and quickly throws himself at Steve and they both topple to the floor.

His head bangs but not too hard as it's protected by Bucky's hand. He groans as he stares at the ceiling. His breathing is getting difficult. And it's not because an asthma is rearing its head.

No.

It’s because of the heavy weight of Bucky over him.

Then it clicks in his head. Rumlow probably woke up and took a shot at him. And Bucky- _the idiot-_ jumped in front of the bullet.

But Bucky’s not moving.

Steve hears another shot and a scream, but he doesn't glance away from the ceiling. Doesn’t even glance Sam’s way. All he's aware of is Bucky's face in his neck. Nuzzled there.

He's scared to speak. To call him. _What if he doesn't answer back?_

Steve finally summons his courage and mutters, “Bu..Bucky, hey. Bucky?”

“Is he conscious? Steve?” Sam’s voice reaches him.

“I don’t know,” he says breathlessly.

Steve needs to move. Now.

So, he wiggles from under Bucky. Howard has gone God knows where. Steve turns Bucky around, his upper body is now on his lap. There’s a wound to his left arm and to his shoulder, very close to his chest.

The sight of Bucky bleeding in his arms paralyzes him. He doesn't know how long he's been staring but he blinks twice before realizing that Sam is there. Right in his face. “It’s okay, Steve. He’s alive. He's just unconscious.”

Steve can’t move. His eyes are staring at a dead Bucky. _No, wait. Not dead._ _But he looks dead._

_He left me again._

“Steve!”

He snaps and notices Sam again. “Press on his wound while I call the ambulance.”

Nodding, he mutters, “Yeah. Yeah.”

He gulps and it’s like he’s brought back to life. He's moving. He puts his arms around Bucky’s chest and pulls him close to him, back to chest. He puts his hand on the wound as he leans his face over Bucky's shoulder.

Steve touches his cheek to his and closes his eyes. “What the hell were you thinking Bucky? What the hell?”

He feels his eyes brim with tears. He hugs Bucky to him and whispers heatedly in his ear. “Please don’t leave me. Please. I beg you. Not again. Not for good.”

_Meow._

Howard comes and sits itself on Bucky's leg. He paws at him to wake up.

Steve feels the blood oozing between his fingers as he hears the loud sound of sirens. He closes his eyes tightly and prays.

_Please God, don't take someone away from me again._

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say thank you all for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos on this fic. I started it in order to have fun and let off some steam, not realizing that it ended up being a long one. I really had fun and I'm gonna miss Howard :(
> 
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy the conclusion. I hope?

 

 

 

Hearing the heart monitor and seeing it beeping without having to be connected to it is a first for Steve. Usually, whenever he’s around that sound, he’d be coming out of consciousness.

His eyes keep going back and forth between the monitor, his current sketch, a sleeping Bucky on the bed, and Howard perched on his legs. Bucky’s legs.

Steve tries to get comfortable on the leather chair but it’s fruitless. He crosses and then uncrosses his legs, trying for the hundredth time to find a better position. When he finally decides on folding his legs under him, he sighs contentedly.

He’s come along way since that fateful scary night. Steve is finally able to relax and _breathe_. Sam had told him that Brock had confessed and was willing to cooperate for a lesser sentence. And Steve was finally able to go back to his old place.

His home.

Looking at what he's sketching right now, he sees Bucky. This sketch isn’t of Bucky lying there unconscious. No. It’s of him sleeping on the sofa, back in his old apartment. He’s memorized that image so well, he can recreate it on paper.

_Meow._

“I know, Howard.” Steve sighs and then looks at Bucky’s sleeping form. His face is at least peaceful this morning.

He looks back at Howard. “He’s just playing cool.”

And he goes back to fix the drawing when Howard’s pleas are answered. A groan reaches Steve’s ears when he’s rummaging through his bag for different charcoal pencils. He lifts his head up and heaves a sigh of relief.

Bucky is finally waking up.

“Hey,” Steve mutters softly as he immediately gets up and stands by his side.

_Meow._

The kitten crawls until he’s sitting by Bucky’s hand.

Fluttering his eyes open, Bucky is fully awake and looking at Steve.

Steve smiles gently and holds his breath.

“Steve,” Bucky mutters in a hoarse voice. He knit his brows and Steve is worried he’s in pain.

He smiles at him but doesn’t touch, afraid that Bucky would feel an unexpected pain or worse...go back to sleep. Instead, he says what he’s been dying to say.

“So your name _really_ is James, huh?”

Bucky snickers and then moans in pain.

“Hey, easy, easy.” Steve’s hands hover over the bed, not knowing what to do. “I’ll call the doctor,” Steve says with a bit of panic in his voice.

Bucky just shakes his head a bit and latches on Steve’s hand with his. He squeezes. “No. Stay.”

“But-"

“Please. Few minutes.”

Steve nods and then drags the chair closer. His sketchbook and pencils fall and he winces at the loud noise. “Sorry.”

He picks them up and shoves them in his bag before sitting on the chair, hand still in Bucky’s hand.

“How long?” Bucky asks, his eyes are drooping.

“You’ve been out for three days.”

“No.”

“I know but you took a bullet-“

“No. How long were you here?” Bucky’s voice is hoarse as he looks his way.

Steve smiles. “Three days.”

Bucky chuckles weakly and then Howard crawls up Bucky’s chest.

“Howard!” Steve reprimands the small kitten. “Not that spot! Come here!”

Bucky raises his other hand and touches the kitten who in return relishes the touch. He settles there. “Let him.”

“Yeah, well...if a nurse comes in, I’ll be kicked out for sure. Do you..."

He pauses as he notices Bucky’s eyes tearing up. His heart clenches. “Hey, you in pain? Let me go call-“

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says in a broken voice. “I’m so sorry Steve.”

Steve looks at the desperate face of the detective. “What are you talking about? It’s okay…”

“No, I owe you a big ass apology-"

“Not now, okay? You can do that later.” Steve isn’t sure why Bucky’s apologizing but he has an idea of what it could be.

“Yeah? Good, ‘cause I can’t keep my eyes open.” And Bucky suddenly falls asleep.

Steve frowns and observes him. He’s breathing evenly but his hand doesn’t let go of Steve’s. He really hopes he’s not in that much pain but who’s he kidding. The guy got shot twice. The thought of nearly losing Bucky just like that, in a split second, makes him shudder and he finds himself reaching out and moving the wild strand of hair away from Bucky’s face.

He leaves his hand there and feels his face redden. It’s the first time that he’s initiated something intimate as this. It feels intrusive and he moves his hand away and stands up. Howard has no intention of moving and keeps licking the back of Bucky’s hand.

Steve sighs and then steps out of the room after putting a mewing Howard in his backpack.

He needs coffee. Lots of it.

 

~~~

 

Steve sends a text to Sam telling him about Bucky who replies that he’s actually on his way to the hospital. Then Steve goes to tell the nurse about Bucky who quickly scrambles to call the doctor.

Heading to the cafeteria, he tries to brace himself for whatever kind of coffee they got there. Fortunately, after pouring some for him and taking a sip, he finds that it tastes good. He sits there at an empty table and waits. He could be there in the room, but he doesn’t want to see them check on Bucky. That night was enough for him to scare the shit out of him. The EMT’s working on him…

He shudders. No need for a recap.

“You’re still sketching that idiot?”

Steve is startled and looks up quick to find Sam smirking at him and examining his sketch. Steve blushes and quickly closes the sketchbook. “It’s just…uh…I was bored-“

Sam’s hand pats his shoulder and he pulls the chair opposite him. “This whole thing is cute, you know.”

Steve frowns. “Shut up.”

"Hey!" Sam points at his own head. “I got knocked out. Have some compassion.”

Steve raises his brows and tries not to smirk. “Bucky got shot!”

Sam shrugs as he sips his coffee. “Potato, potato.”

Then both of them burst out laughing.

_Meow._

Howard crawls from inside Steve’s backpack and jumps on the table.

“What the hell? Hero Howard is here,” Sam announces, smiling. He extends his hand to pet the kitten but the latter shrinks back.

“Give it up, Sam. He doesn’t like you I’m afraid.”

Sam puts his hands up. “How come he likes grumpy Barnes and not me? It just doesn’t make sense.”

Steve pulls Howard close, behind the napkin dispenser so the nurses or the patients walking around won’t see him. “Not everything makes sense, Sam.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Like you and Barnes,” Sam adds, smirking as he sips his coffee.

Steve almost chokes on his coffee. “We’re not…I don’t know what you’re…”

“Please, spare me.” And Sam takes another sip from his coffee. Then he looks serious all of a sudden. “He didn’t wanna leave you, you know.”

“I’m sorry?” Steve asks, his heart beating wildly against his chest.

“It was the only way for him. As soon as I saw his state after you were admitted, I knew he was in too deep.” Then Sam looks up from his cup. “Barnes made the mistake of getting too close to you.”

Steve had no idea that Bucky felt anything toward him during his stay with him. All they did was bicker and get on each others' nerves.

When he doesn’t say anything back, too lost in thoughts, Sam elaborates, “But I think he also made the mistake of distancing himself because he’s been miserable and neurotic ever since.”

Steve looks down and wraps both hands around his cup. It warms his hands. “Hence, him following me or more accurately spying on me.”

Sam whistles, shaking his head. “Boy, did he get on my nerves. We lashed out at each other a couple of times. He’s…he’s never been the same after going undercover to expose Hydra.”

Steve wants to ask but figures he should ask Bucky himself. So, he figures he should change the subject. “How’s Peggy? Settled?”

Sam puts his finger up. “Hold on. She was bugging me, warning me that I should call her as soon as I see you or kick my ass.” And he glances at Steve and whispers, “Which I think she can.”

Steve snickers as Sam dials Peggy’s on his cell phone and waits. He perks up and hands the phone over to Steve.

“Peggy?”

“Steve, darling. How are you?” Peggy asks enthusiastically.

“Hey. I’m fine. You sound good.”

“How’s your…friend? Sam told me what happened.” Her voice is full of genuine concern.

Steve thumbs the edge of the sketchbook. “He’s recovering. Just woke up today.”

“I wish him speedy recovery. Such a hero that young man.”

Steve quickly changes the subject. “How are you? How’s your new home?”

He’s predicted her reaction and he smiles at her answer. “Oh God. Little Stark is spoiling me. He’s letting machines serve me, at my beck and call. It's a strange time we're living in. If it weren't for the friendship I had with his father, and the many things I owed him, I’d have left a long time ago. Also, his wife is so lovely.”

“Well, I personally can’t hate him. He gave me Howard. Thanks for letting me keep him.”

Peggy’s laugh is beautiful and he’s never heard her laugh like this. “I’m happy. I can’t take care of him. My hands are already full of Howard Stark’s son.”

They’re both silent and Steve watches Sam trying to dangle a straw on top of Howard, but the kitten is having no interest. He's only watching Sam instead of the straw.

Total indifference.

Sam is frustrated which makes Steve snicker at the whole scene. Peggy's sigh at the other end catches his attention.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about me that way.”

Steve remembers Sam two nights ago filling him in on Peggy’s history. She’d crossed paths with Hydra in the past as an MI6 agent. The criminal organization was recently trying to 'finish' any living agents that may testify against them one day even if they’re no longer a threat. Plus, Peggy had long obtained documents of all Hydra activities dating back to the sixties. Hydra's new leader was paranoid.

It's funny how their pursuit of Peggy ended up being their undoing.

Oh and how Howard Stark contributed many things to the MI6 in terms of technology to help out against the fight.

Steve shakes his head then remembers she can’t see him. “It’s okay. It’s your story. You didn’t owe me and you still don’t.”

She sighs. “Thank you darling-"

“Pegs! Who’re you calling? Please don’t tell me it’s one of your lovers. My old man would turn in his grave,” a voice says at the other end.

Steve frowns and takes a guess that it’s Tony Stark. Peggy shushes him and then apologizes to Steve. “I have to go darling to give Little Stark a lecture on etiquette. He forgets that I’m all about propriety. And that I can kick his butt.”

“Okay, Peggy. I’ll keep in touch. I’ll take your number from Sam.”

“Please do. Oh, and pay my regards to that handsome brave detective.”

“Will do.”

He hangs up and hands the phone back to Sam who still looks devastated at Howard’s indifference.

“Steve Rogers?”

He turns around and sees one of the nurses he got to know over the course of him practically staying by Bucky’s side.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Barnes is asking for you.”

Sam gets up and waits for Steve for them to go there together.

As soon as they enter the room, there are two guys there. One is standing at the foot of Bucky’s bed, and the other by his side. They’re both chuckling and talking loudly. Steve knows one of them. It’s Tim with the weird nickname Dum Dum. But the second one doesn’t look familiar but as soon as he turns around, Steve freezes.

“Monty?”

“Hello Steve Rogers,” the man says as he walks up to Steve who’s still standing by the door. He extends his hand. “Pleasure to meet you Sir under…well, I’d say better circumstances but...at least you’re well this time.”

He winks and Steve’s trying not to let his jaw drop in shock. “You’re real?”

All three men chuckle, including Bucky. “This guy!” Monty exclaims as he pats Steve’s shoulder. “You are a riot my friend.”

“I thought I hallucinated you,” Steve mutters softly.

And then Tim elbows Monty making him howl in pain. “He’s pretty much real. It’s unfortunate for all of us.”

Sam extends his hand. “Sam Wilson. I take it you’re one of Bucky’s mysterious friends.”

Monty inhales deeply as he looks up, pondering. “I’ll take mysterious.”

“He’s a former agent and one of Bucky’s oldest friends,” Tim explained.

“My favorite guys in one room,” Bucky mutters, smiling widely but his eyes are still droopy.

Sam shakes his head at him, smiling as he crosses the room to stand by the bed. “See, now I know you’re really heavily medicated.”

Bucky just raises his middle finger at him and the rest guffaw at the two detectives. Steve is still by the door and he feels like he’s intruding somehow until Bucky’s eyes catches him.

He can’t look away.

“Hey guys, can you give us a minute?” Bucky asks them but his eyes are still on Steve’s.

The three men shuffle around, saying goodbye to their friend and then patting Steve on the shoulder on their way out.

Before Sam leaves, he turns and points at the two of them. “I just wanna say… I’m rooting for this.”

And he leaves quickly after the deathly stare Bucky gives him.

Steve stands there, securing the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. "Peggy sends her regards."

Bucky nods. Then Howard jumps out of Steve's backpack and runs toward Bucky, noiselessly pawing at the white bed sheet until he settles himself on his chest.

“Awww, hey buddy. Missed you so much,” Bucky mutters as he hugs the kitten to his chest. He buries his face in the kitten’s neck.

Steve is in awe and he walks a few steps to sit on his chair. He started calling it _his_ few days ago.

“He misses you too,” Steve remarks softly.

Bucky looks up and Steve notices how tired he really looks. He sighs and wishes he could take all the pain and fatigue away. It’s his fault in the end.

“I only let people I like call me Bucky.”

Steve frowns, confused. “What?”

Bucky sighs and smiles. “Yes, my name is James Barnes but only my close ones call me Bucky. It’s short for Buchanan. My middle name.”

Steve’s cheeks color as he realizes that Bucky had asked him to call him Bucky long before they even became civil toward each other. Embarrassed, he changes the subject.

“How come Brad knew you?”

Bucky frowns this time. “What do you mean?”

“Uh...I meant Tony...How was he able to identify you…Tip Brock off…”

“Oh.” Bucky looks at a content Howard. “Let's just say that when I got out, I left a pretty huge impact. Hydra probably educated him about me.”

Steve feels ill even though Tony is dead and Brock is already rotting in jail. “That’s why you wanted us to hurry out of the room…that night.”

“Now, wait Steve. I was suspicious, I wasn’t sure. Plus, I look totally different from back then.”

Steve feels his voice quivering at the guilt. “I should’ve trusted you and for that I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head vehemently. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. If anyone should apologize, it’s me.”

Steve smiles against the tears threatening to fall. “Yeah, you pulled a lot of stupid shit that requires an apology. Like getting shot.”

Bucky chuckles. “Hey!” And points a finger at Steve. “I’m _not_ sorry for that.”

“Oh?” Steve raises a brow. “Then what are you sorry for?”

Bucky gulps and then looks somber all of a sudden. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Steve nods then runs his hand through his hair. He’s forgiven him the moment he saw him again in the studio on that dreadful night.

“It’s okay.”

“No,” Bucky says before taking a deep breath. “I should’ve been right by your side.”

“Well, you kinda were.”

Bucky cringes. “In a creepy way, sure.”

And they both chuckles. When Bucky sobers up, he speaks. “I just…I couldn’t…”

“Hey, you don’t have to do this now.”

Bucky huffs. “I have to disagree with you on that.”

“Let’s agree to disagree then.” And Steve stretches and holds his hand.

Bucky looks at it and then up at Steve with utmost tenderness. Steve is hit with it he can’t move. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve never abandoned you-"

“You didn’t-"

“I just…the lines got blurry and I found out that I got close to you. Too close.”

Steve gulps and goes to pull his hand away but Bucky holds on to it with both hands. Steve finds himself breathing hard, his heart thudding in his chest.

“I lost so many people to Hydra. Friends, and co workers…I thought that with distance I can maybe get you to be safe again. And also to get you outta my head. But…” and he shakes his head.

Bucky then smiles at him. “I was in the dark for so long, Steve. You have no idea how dark my life was. And then you showed up in my life. Came out of the blue. You were like a puzzle that I couldn’t solve… maybe because you put everything into new perspective for me.”

And then Steve feels like he’d burst into flames when Bucky brings his bony hand to his lips and lays a soft kiss on it. Then two and then he turns it to kiss the palm.

He finds himself speechless and in awe. No one has ever been this tender toward him. Literally and figuratively.

“Steve, I…”

“Huh?”

_Great! That’s your response Rogers?_

There’s a knock on the door and Sam comes inside. “Hey, I have some news.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You and your impeccable timing.”

Steve blushes and goes to pull his hand back but Bucky holds on to it.

Sam comes inside and points at him. “Hey, my timing is always great. It saved your ass.”

Bucky tilts his head aside as he gives him a disgusted look. “You’re gonna milk this aren’t you? Brag about it for eternity?”

“You bet your ass I will.” Then he turns to Steve. “Sorry but I have great news.”

They wait for seconds and then he looks at his phone as he relays what’s in the message. “Fury just sent me a text telling me to inform you that you’re gonna be on leave for six months.”

“WHAT?”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Steve comments happily. “You deserve time to recuperate so you can get back to work.”

And this time Steve is the one squeezing Bucky’s hand in his.

“But I don’t know what to do when I’m not working.”

“One more thing before you guys can get back to whatever this is…anyway, you need a new place. Forget your old apartment. It's too compromised. Gotta start fresh.”

Bucky huffs. “Great! No work and no place.”

“Move in with me,” Steve says without hesitation. The two men look at him surprised.

“That’s a good idea Steve,” Sam says and winks their way before heading out. “Gotta go. There’s a new case…bye!”

Bucky doesn’t even acknowledge his partner. “Steve, I don’t-”

“Think about it." Steve leans in excitement. "You can rest there until you find a new place. You won’t be alone. Plus, you’ve been there before…some of your stuff are still there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I owe you my life. Living in my place is hardly a payback.”

Bucky groans. “Ugh, no. Don’t start with this."

Steve clears his throat and squeezes Bucky's hand again. "Thank you. I never got to say it earlier."

Bucky pulls his hand away. "You don’t owe me anything. Never repeat that Steve. Let’s shake on it please.”

And he grunts when he extends his hand, the stretch probably pained him.

Steve shakes his hand firmly. “This doesn’t mean we’re even but I’m gonna humor you.”

“Jesus! And you want me to move in too,” he says, sarcastic as hell.

Steve shrugs. “I’m willing to see your ugly face every morning.”

Bucky pulls his hand away and Steve laughs. Howard jumps on Steve’s head making him yelp in surprise.

Bucky laughs loudly. “I’m glad Howard’s got my back. Every time.”

 

~~~

 

“Easy, easy,” Steve says as he secures his arm around Bucky’s waist, walking up to his old apartment.

Steve has gotten back to living in it while Bucky was in the hospital. He, with the help of Clint and Nat, cleaned up the place and made it livable again. He’d return to it just to sleep and then head to the hospital early in the morning.

Peggy’s old apartment is already remodeled and fixed and there’s already someone renting it.

It’s been two weeks and Bucky is finally out. He needs physical therapy still but he’ll be going to the outpatient clinic.

“Howard, just…move.”

_Meow._

The kitten is dancing around their feet.

“Thanks again Steve.”

“Shut up.” Steve sighs. “You took a bullet for me.”

“You’re not gonna let that go, are ya? Sam rubbed off on ya?” Bucky raises his brow in amusement.

Steve looks up at him with a wide smile. “We’re besties now.”

Bucky shakes his head. “God help us.”

Steve finally pulls his keys out and opens the door.

Both guys freeze at finding Clint and Nat kissing in the middle of the living room.

“Uh, hello."

The couple break apart and then realize how awkward it is but then they both throw their arms up.

“Surprise!”

Steve’s shoulders sag. “Guys! I told you to abandon your silly idea. What the hell?”

He wants the earth to open and swallow him. But Clint and Natasha are not having it. Ever since they got together, they’ve been those two dorks that won’t stop each other from having silly ideas and actually implementing them. And they’re all over each other most of the time which makes Steve’s company pointless.

“Welcome back detective,” Clint and Nat both say at the same time with wide smiles.

And then Clint charges at them, flinging himself on Bucky. Not caring that Bucky is wearing an arm sling.

Clint is actually tearing up. “Thank you for saving my best friend.”

“Uh,” Bucky looks at Steve who shrugs. Clint is unpredictable sometimes. “You’re welcome?”

Clint pulls away and holds Bucky’s face between his hands. Steve thinks that maybe Nat being in his life is giving him more confidence because the Clint he used to know would run the other way before acting like this with a cop. The thought makes him chuckle a bit.

Clint clears his throat and says with determination. “You will have free coffee at the coffee shot for the rest of eternity.”

Bucky nods, feigning excitement and Steve snickers at that. He knows the many faces Bucky pulls by now. Nat pulls Clint back and heads to the door. “Got you guys some cupcakes and coffee for you in the kitchen. Enjoy.”

“Nat, but-“ and they never get to hear what Clint is about to say for Nat closes the door after them.

Steve fidgets nervously now that they’re alone and looks up at a confused Bucky. He explains. “They got together a while ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Nat finally just succumbed and kissed him to get some sense into his thick skull.”

Steve moves his notebooks and sketchbooks off the couch and puts them on the coffee table. “Here. Sit down.”

Howard jumps and sits there. Steve gives him a look. “I didn’t mean you Howard.”

_Meow._

The kitten has eyes only for Bucky for as soon as he sits down, groaning a bit at the pain in his chest, he jumps and sits in his lap.

Bucky laughs slightly. “This guy is not gonna give me a break, is he?”

Steve shakes his head at them and heads to bring the stuff Nat put in the kitchen. When he comes back to the living room, he pauses and feels nervous.

Bucky is looking through one of his sketchbooks and Howard is sitting comfortably on his shoulder looking at the moving pages.

Then Bucky notices Steve and looks up. He smiles and Steve can’t believe that he picked the one with the sketches he did of Bucky a while ago.

“If I’d known you were interested in my profile, I’d have posed a long time ago.”

Steve laughs nervously and puts the coffee cups and cupcakes on the table. He snatches the sketchbook but Bucky catches his wrist, making him stand there, looking down at him.

Bucky purses his lips then bites the lower one distracting Steve. “Will you sit for a second?”

Steve nods hesitantly as he leaves the sketchbook on the table.

He sits and Bucky keeps staring at Steve’s face. “It’s true that the first time was a diversion and I don’t blame you if you thought I’ve crossed a line but for me it was what I wanted to do the moment I saw you that night.”

Steve frowns. “What are you talking about it?”

Bucky scratches his head and puts his hair behind his ear before shaking his head slightly in frustration. “I’m really bad at this but I was talking about this…”

And he leans over and captures Steve’s lips so softly Steve thinks he’s dreaming it. It’s sweet and soft and romantic. He feels his heart almost stop and his hands hover over Bucky’s chest, not really knowing what to do.

It’s over very quickly and when Bucky pulls back, Steve chases those sweet lips making Bucky laugh against his mouth. Steve’s hands hold on to the lapels of Bucky’s jacket. Somehow he fears that he’s dreaming this moment so he doesn’t want this to end.

Bucky recovers and kisses him back, running his hand over the back of Steve’s head. He nibbles on Steve's lower lip, making him moan in pleasure. When Steve pulls away to breathe, Bucky cups the back of his neck, to rest his forehead against his. “Was gonna kiss you earlier but didn’t want an audience. Never again.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I think it's safe to say that Nat and Clint are not Hydra.”

“Shut up.”

Bucky kisses him again and Steve feels brave enough to push him back and stretches his body over Bucky’s. He settles himself between Bucky's legs, navigating around the arm sling, and supporting his weight on his elbows so not to put pressure on Bucky's injured chest.

_Meow._

Steve feels the kitten’s paws on his back but he ignores him.

Bucky pulls back with a loud kissing sound and then sighs contentedly. Steve smiles down at him.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be able to handle living with me for six months? ‘cause I’m pretty much grumpy all the time,” Bucky asks softly, smiling as he runs his hand over Steve’s back.

Steve kisses his nose. “I handled you when you were Grumpy Bucky, and I’m pretty sure I can handle _my_ Grumpy Bucky.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he smirks. “So I’m your Bucky now?”

“Yup.”

Bucky nudges his head to the right, to the direction of the coffee table. “I don’t think Howard is a fan of us right now.”

Steve looks to where’s he pointing out and finds Howard just sitting there, staring at them.

“Yes, Howard. This is happening. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to share Bucky with me.”

Bucky lifts his head up and stifles a laugh in Steve’s neck.

“You and your cat are weird,” Bucky mutters, giddiness in his voice.

Steve laughs and then Bucky tightens his arm around his back and whispers seriously, “I have no intention of sharing you. Ever.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat. “Good. Same here.”

They kiss again and then they lose themselves in each other when they hear the kitten has dropped the cups of coffee.

They both yell, “Howard!”

_Meow._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are much appreciated :)  
> Thanks for reading <3


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